Getting back the farm

The boss copped the profits.
The bank took the farm.
I had to get by on
the strength of my arm.
The pollie said it hadn’t,
hadn’t done any harm,
that it would trickle down;
he spoke with such charm.
The union won’t wear it
they’ve raised the alarm.
So if we join together-
stand arm in arm-
shift the scales from our eyes
we’ll grab back the farm.
We’ll share and care for all who’re here
no matter why they’re here,
we’ll share and care and treat ’em fair
and shout every one a beer.