HOME | BIOGRAPHY | LYRICS | PROGRAM & EXHIBITS | PUBLISHING REQUEST | PRESS | STORE

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


 

 

My Thirty Thousand
Words by Woody Guthrie, Music by Billy Bragg

Paul Robeson he’s the man
That faced the Ku Klux Klan
On hollow grove’s golfing ground
His words come sounding!
And all around him there
To jump and clap and cheer
I sent the best, the best I had
My thirty thousand

The Klansman leader said
That Paul would lose his head
When thirty five thousand vets
Broke up that concert.
But less than four thousand came
To side with the Klan!
But around Paul’s lonesome oak
(My thirty thousand).

A beersoaked brassy band
Did snortle around the grounds
Four hundred noblest souls
(Westchester’s manhood)!
They looked exactly like
Fleas on a tiger’s back;
Lost fish in the waters of
My thirty thousand!

When Paul had sung and gone
And the kids and babies home
Cops came with guns and clubs
And clubbed and beat them!
I’d hate to be a cop
Caught with a bloody stick,
('Cause you can’t bash the brains out
of thirty thousand)!

Each eye you tried to gouge,
Each skull you tried to crack,
Has a thousand thousand friends
Around this green grass!
If you furnish the skull someday
I'll pass out the clubs and guns
To the billion hands that love
My thirty thousand!

Each wrinkle on your face
I know it at a glance,
You cannot run and hide
Nor duck nor dodge them.
And your carcass and your deeds
Will fertilize the seeds
Of the men that stood to guard
My thirty thousand!

 


© Copyright Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc.
Available on:

 

HOME | BIOGRAPHY | LYRICS | SPECIAL PROJECTS | PUBLISHING REQUEST | EDUCATIONAL CURRICULUM

PROGRAM & EXHIBITS | NEWS | STORE | MAILING LIST | PRESS | SITEMAPCONTACT