♪ Jesus was a working man,
a hero you shall hear,
Born in the slums of Bethlehem,
At the turning of the year,
Yes, the turning of the year.
His father he apprenticed him,
A carpenter to be,
To plane and drill and work with skill In the town of Galilee,
Yes, the town of Galilee.
He became a roving journeyman,
And he wandered far and wide,
And he saw how wealth and poverty Live always side by side,
Yes, always side by side.
He said, Come all you working men,
You farmers and weavers too,
If you will only organize,
The world belongs to you,
Yes, the world belongs to you.
So the fishermen sent two delegates,
And the farmers and weavers too,
And they formed a working committee of twelve,
To see the struggle through,
Yes, to see the struggle through.
When the rich men heard what the carpenter had done,
To the Roman troops they ran,
Saying, Put this rebel Jesus down,
He's a menace to God and man,
Yes, a menace to God and man.
The commander of the occupying troops,
He laughed and then he said,
There's a cross to spare on Calvary Hill,
By the weekend he'll be dead,
Yes, by the weekend he'll be dead.
Now Jesus walked among the poor,
For the poor were his own kind,
And they wouldn't let the cops get near enough,
To take him from behind,
Yes, to take him
from behind.
So they hired a man of the traitor's trade,
And a stool pigeon was he,
And he sold his
brother to the butcher's men,
For a fistful of silver money,
Yes, a fistful of money.
The
sweat stood out upon his brow,
And the blood was in his eye,
And they nailed his body to the Roman cross,
And they laughed as they watched him die,
Yes, they laughed as they watched him die.
Two thousand years have passed and gone,
And many a hero too,
And the dream of this poor carpenter,
At last it's coming true,
Yes, at last it's coming true.