Listen. Can't you hear them?
It's the sound of marching feet.
It's the armies of the workers.
From every land they meet.
They are marching on to Victory.
They shall trample every foe,
For their slogan's human brotherhood
Everywhere they go.
They shall up the bars from prisons.
They will wreck each dungeon cell,
They will liberate the victims
Of the boss-created hell.
They will level social barriers
And by reason of their might
Eradicate for ever
The ruling parasite
They will trample class distinction
In the mud beneath their heels
For tomorrow's ruling class shall come
From factories, mines and fields.
They will raise the scarlet banner
And beneath its folds unfurled
Shall meet a congress of the workers
In a federation of the world.