They say the working class is dead
We're all consumers now
They say that we have moved ahead
We're all just people now

There's people doing frightfully well
There's others on the shelf
But never mind the second kind
This is the age of self

They say we need new images
To help our movement grow
They say that life is broader
Based as if we didn't know

While Martin J. and Robert M.
Play with printer's ink
The workers 'round the world
Still die for Rio Tinto Zinc

And it seems to me if we forget
Our roots and where we stand
The movement will disintegrate
Like castles built on sand