I made this song about a boy who lived in my house.
He started organizing working people in the union at 16.
He was born and raised in Springfield, Massachusetts.
He led an unemployed demonstration when he was 16 in Springfield.
Later he went to Birmingham, Alabama and worked amongst the white and black workers there, organizing for better conditions.
When we had our trouble in Kentucky, he came up to Kentucky to help in the mine strike.
I got acquainted with him and he helped the first successful youth conference in the South.
He was a friend.
I made this song about him. I hope you like it.
Comrades, listen to my story.
Workers, listen to my song.
I'll tell you of a hero who's now dead and gone.
I'll tell you of a worker whose age was just 19.
He was the strongest union man that I have ever seen.
Harry Sims, he was a pal of mine.
We labored side by side, expecting to be shot on sight or taken for a ride
by the dirty capitalist gun thugs who roamed from town to town
to shoot and kill our comrades where they may be found.
Harry Sims and I was parted at five o'clock that day.
Be careful, my dear comrade, to Harry I did say.
I must do my duty was his reply to me.
If I get killed by the gun thugs, please don't grieve over me.
Just remain a faithful worker, dear comrade, to be wise.
Remain a faithful worker, dear comrade, to be wise.
Help destroy this rotten system. Don't fail to organize.
He was walking up the railroad track one bright, sunshiny day.
He was young and handsome, and his tips was light and gay.
We did not know the gun thugs was waiting on the way
to take our dear young comrade's life this bright, sunshiny day.
Harry Sims was killed on Brush Creek in 1932.
He organized the miners in the good old MU.
He fought for the Union. That's all that he could do.
He died for the Union, also for me and you.
Now, comrades, we must vow today that one thing we must do.
We'll organize all the miners in the good old MU.
We'll get a million volunteers for the YCL
and sink this rotten system in the deepest pits of hell.