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A NOTE ABOUT PUBLISHING:

All works by Woody Guthrie are held under U.S. Copyright Law. If you are interested in using a song for publication, recording, performance, or other, please contact the appropriate publisher listed at the bottom of each lyric.

If you have questions, please feel free to contact Anna Canoni at: acanoni(at)woodyguthrie.org


PUBLISHER'S CONTACTS:

TRO-The Richmond Organization
Attn: Christina Sayles
266 West 37th Street, 17th Floor
New York, NY 10018-6609
T: 212-594-9795 x24
E: christina.sayles@songways.com


Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc.
(Administered by BMG Chrysalis)
Attn: Gregg Barron
6100 Wilshire Boulevard, Suite #1600,
Los Angeles, CA 90048
T: (323) 969-0988
E: info.us@bmgchrysalis.com
W: www.bmgchrysalis.com


Sanga Music Group
(Administered by Bicycle Music)
449 South Beverly Drive, Suite 300
Beverly Hills, CA 90212 
T: 310-286-6600
W: www.bicyclemusic.com


Michael Goldsen Music, Inc.
6124 Selma Avenue
Hollywood, CA 90068


MCA Music Publishing
c/o Universal Music, Inc
2440 Sepulveda Boulevard, #100
Los Angeles, CA 90064


 

 

Ludlow Massacre
Words and Music by Woody Guthrie

It was early springtime when the strike was on,
They drove us miners out of doors,
Out from the houses that the Company owned,
We moved into tents up at old Ludlow.

I was worried bad about my children,
Soldiers guarding the railroad bridge,
Every once in a while a bullet would fly,
Kick up gravel under my feet.

We were so afraid you would kill our children,
We dug us a cave that was seven foot deep,
Carried our young ones and pregnant women
Down inside the cave to sleep.

That very night your soldiers waited,
Until all us miners were asleep,
You snuck around our little tent town,
Soaked our tents with your kerosene.

You struck a match and in the blaze that started,
You pulled the triggers of your gatling guns,
I made a run for the children but the fire wall stopped me.
Thirteen children died from your guns.

I carried my blanket to a wire fence corner,
Watched the fire till the blaze died down,
I helped some people drag their belongings,
While your bullets killed us all around.

I never will forget the look on the faces
Of the men and women that awful day,
When we stood around to preach their funerals,
And lay the corpses of the dead away.

We told the Colorado Governor to call the President,
Tell him to call off his National Guard,
But the National Guard belonged to the Governor,
So he didn't try so very hard.

Our women from Trinidad they hauled some potatoes,
Up to Walsenburg in a little cart,
They sold their potatoes and brought some guns back,
And they put a gun in every hand.

The state soldiers jumped us in a wire fence corners,
They did not know we had these guns,
And the Red-neck Miners mowed down these troopers,
You should have seen those poor boys run.

We took some cement and walled that cave up,
Where you killed these thirteen children inside,
I said, "God bless the Mine Workers' Union,"
And then I hung my head and cried.

 


© Copyright 1958 (renewed) by Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc.
Available on:

 

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