The Internationale Harmonica Tabs

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Arise ye workers from your slumbers
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Arise ye prisoners of want
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For reason in revolt now thunders
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And at last ends the age of cant.
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A—way with all your superstitions
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Servile masses arise, arise
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We’ll change henceforth the old tradition
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And spurn the dust to win the prize.

Refrain:
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So comrades, come rally
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And the last fight let us face
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The Internationale unites the hu-man race.
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So comrades, come rally
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And the last fight let us face
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The Internationale unites the human race.

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No more deluded by reaction
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On tyrants only we’ll make war
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The soldiers too will take strike action
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They’ll break ranks and fight no more
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And if those cannibals keep trying
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To sacrifice us to their pride
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They soon shall hear the bullets flying
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We’ll shoot the generals on our own side.

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No saviour from on high delivers
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No faith have we in prince or peer
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Our own right hand the chains must shiver
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Chains of hatred, greed and fear
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E’er the thieves will out with their booty
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And give to all a happier lot.
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Each at the forge must do their duty
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And we’ll strike while the iron is hot.

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Arise ye pris’ners of starvation
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Arise ye wretched of the earth
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For justice thunders condemnation
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A better world’s in birth!
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No more tradition’s chains shall bind us
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Arise, ye slaves, no more in thrall;
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The earth shall rise on new foundations
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We have been naught we shall be all.

Refrain:
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‘Tis the final conflict
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Let each stand in his place
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The International Union
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Shall be the human race.

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We want no condescending saviors
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To rule us from their judgement hall
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We workers ask not for their favors
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Let us consult for all.
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To make the theif disgorge his booty
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To free the spirit from its cell
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We must ourselves decide our duty
We must decide and do it well.

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The law oppresses us and tricks us,
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The wage slave system drains our blood;
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The rich are free from obligation,
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The laws the poor delude.
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Too long we’ve languished in subjection,
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Equality has other laws;
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“No rights”, says she “without their duties,
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No claims on equals without cause.”

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Behold them seated in their glory
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The kings of mine and rail and soil!
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What have you read in all their story,
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But how they plundered toil?
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Fruits of the workers’ toil are buried
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In strongholds of the idle few
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In working for their restitution
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The men will only claim their due.

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We toilers from all fields united
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Join hand in hand with all who work;
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The earth belongs to us, the workers,
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No room here for the shirk.
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How many on our flesh have fattened!
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But if the norsome birds of prey
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Shall vanish from the sky some morning
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The blessed sunlight then will stay.