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A NOTE ABOUT PUBLISHING


Want to license a Woody Guthrie song?

If you are interested in licensing a song for publication, recording, performance, or other, please contact the publisher.

Questions? Contact Anna Canoni at: acanoni(at)woodyguthrie.org

All works by Woody Guthrie are held under U.S. Copyright Law.


PUBLISHER'S CONTACT
Look at the bottom of each lyric page to find the correct publisher.

TRO-Essex Music Group
Attn: Sarah Smith
266 West 37th Street, 17th Floor
New York, NY 10018-6609
T: 212-594-9795 x25
Email
Website


Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc.
(Administered by BMG Chrysalis)
Attn: Gregg Barron
6100 Wilshire Boulevard, Suite #1600,
Los Angeles, CA 90048
T: (323) 969-0988
Email
Website


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


Michael Goldsen Music, Inc.
MGA
(Administered by Universal Music)

2100 Colorado Avenue
Santa Monica, CA 90404
T: (310) 235-4892
Email
Website


 

 

Vanzetti's Rock
Words and Music by Woody Guthrie

I see the tourists, Vanzetti,
Around your Plymouth's Rock;
Black glasses, sun goggles, stain'd glasses,
Smoked glasses to block out the light.
O see them come here as you seen them,
But I see lots more than you saw;
I see them in fast running-cars,
You seen them in wagons and carts.

These tourists don't see you, Vanzetti,
These salesmen and gamblers on tour.
Your footprints are dim and your trail is sprung weeds.
Their tourist map don't show you there.
The trade union workers, Vanzetti,
Will vacation here, and we'll tour
This Rock and this town and Plymouth around
When their statues have souls like yours.

Your picture is painted, Vanzetti,
Your words are carved 'round the frames;
Your songs and your poems,
your working folks' dreams,
Will flame with our greatest of names.
Your name I will paint on my pointers,
My streets, my mountains, my shops;
Your hopes that you hoped, dreams that you dreamed
I'll see that your works never stop.

Those talks for the workers, Vanzetti,
I'll chisel them down on the rocks;
I'll tell every worker to fight you fought,
Like the Pilgrims that docked on this rock.
I'll scatter your words on my waters
To the ships, to the fishes, the gulls;
I'll cast your fish cart in metals so fine,
And I'll push around this world.

 


© Copyright 1960 by Woody Guthrie Publications, Inc.
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