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Artiste:
The Rebel Spell
Titre:
The Strikers
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Clock strikes 5. End of a bloody shift. Knees are weak and fingers are stiff. The workers step outside and wipe the sweat from their eyes. It's time to decide to go home or fight. The chief turned and spit then wiped his lip and said there's no way to stop us now. Their fists were strong but their will was stronger. 60 minds set. packing crowbars and hammers. Marched back through the gate. For that last goddam day. Negotiations would not placate. It's the habit of management to wait and wait and then give us just enough that we don't walk away. The Strikers were a rock. Smashing a chokehold. Tearing the shackles off. They could not be stopped. with the boot off their necks the fire had come back. They fought til dawn. So many lost their lives, but some found themselves. So the story goes. you can only oppress for so long and then you will be left burning. You've got something to say. so say it. You've got something to do. so get up. Clock strikes 5. End of a bloody shift. Knees are weak and fingers are stiff. Their fists were strong but their will was stronger. 60 minds set. Packing crowbars and hammers. Marched back through the gate. For that last goddam day .Negotiations would not placate. It's the habit of management to wait and wait and then give us just enough that we don't walk away. The Strikers were a rock. Smashing a chokehold. Tearing the shackles off. They could not be stopped. With the boot off their necks the fire had come back. They fought til dawn. So many lost their lives, but some found themselves. So the story goes. you can only oppress for so long and then you will be left burning. Woah oo oh oh. You're a Striker... Don't take it... You're a Striker. The Strikers were a rock.
