I’ll tell you all a story that perhaps you do not know It all happened in Australia quite some time ago I’ll tell you of Tom Barker from Westmoreland he came From an early age he knew that he was born to Fan the Flames Many in their youth and prime they left their own backyard Back before the First World War when times were tough and hard By boat and train and road they came tired legs and blistered feet And they wound up here in Sydney on Castlereagh Street.
Chorus Gladiators of the Working Class, heroes of mine Who travelled down this dark road long before my time Your actions and the words you spoke are shining in my mind As I’m blowing down this old dusty road.
Tom Glynn and Peter Larkin they came from Erin’s Shore There was Jack Hamilton and J.B. King, Charlie Reeve and many more And Donald Grant I see him still in the Sydney Domain Where Sunday after Sunday thousands thrilled as he proclaimed “O the men who made this Empire they made it for the few “Who feast upon the profits of the labours that we do “And now they want the working man to fight for them as well “Let those who own this Empire go and fight for it themselves”
Prime Minister Billy Hughes that “Little Digger” sod He was elected by the workers and he thought that he was God Says he for the mines in Broken Hill and the Queensland shearing sheds We’ll introduce Conscription and get rid of all these Reds O Billy was astonished when the Referendum failed He rounded up the Wobblies and he filled up all his jails With all the wealth and all his might he made a pretty show But he couldn’t get away with it when the People voted NO.
A cartoon in the Wobbly paper it had it cut and dried It showed the rich man raking in the loot and the soldier crucified And the editor he was thrown in jail and the working folks agreed That they’d kick up bloody murder till they saw Tom Barker freed. And the Sydney Twelve stood trial when some buildings were burned down And the evidence it was stitched up by Detectives for the Crown And the brainless brutal jury found them guilty with a leer And the Judge says I’ll be lenient and give you ten to fifteen years.
Tom Barker was deported to Chile was sent away Where he promptly organised the docks in Valparaiso Bay And he wound up in London where the people made him Mayor And upon St Pancras Town Hall he raised the Red Flag there. He sneaked back into Sydney in the year of ’32 And he watched the Anzac Day parade and his prophecies come true For these Heroes in their shabby clothes who fought the Hun and Turk Had come home to find that all they’d won was a lifetime of no work.
Chorus Gladiators of the Working Class, Heroes of mine If we only had Tom Barker here in all his youth and prime His actions and the words he spoke are shining in my mind As I’m blowing down this old dusty road.
I stood at the foot of your grave Tom Glynn here in Botany Bay In the shadow of Long Bay jail where they locked you all away And I made a vow to your memory as I stood on your burial ground That I’d write this song and I’d sing it in your native Galway town.