Lyrics Woody Guthrie – Red Wine
Text:
Oh, pour me a drink of Italian red wine
And let me taste it and call back to mind
Once more in my thoughts, and once more in my soul
This story as great, if not greater, than all
Told about a patrolman named Earl J. Vaugh
He stepped on a Main Street trolley car
And arrested Sacco and Vanzetti there
The article tells how Earl J. Vaugh
Is now retiring as an officer of law
This cop goes down in my history
For arresting Sacco and Vanzetti that day
It was 1920, the 5th of May
The cop and some buddies took these men away
Off of the car and out and down
And down to the jail in Brockton town
«There’s been a killing and a robbery
At the Slater Morrill shoe factory
You two gents are carryin’ guns
And you dodged the draft when the war did come»
«Yes, ’tis so, ’tis so, ’tis so
We made for the borders of Mexico
The rich man’s war we could not fight
So we crossed the border to keep out of sight»
«You men are known as radical sons
You must be killers, you both carry guns»
«I’m a night watchman, my friend peddles fish
And he carries his gun when he’s got lots of cash»
Oh, pour me a glass of Germany’s beer
Russia’s hot vodka, so strong and clear
Or just a moonshiner’s bucket of chock
Now, let me think, and let me see
How these two men were found guilty
How a hundred and sixty witnesses passed by
And the ones spoke for them was a hundred and five
Out of the rest, about fifty just guessed
Out of the five that was put to the test
Only the story of one held true
After a hundred and fifty nine got through
And on this one, uncertain and afraid
She saw the carload of robbers, she said
One year later, she remembered his face
After seein’ his car for a second and a half
She told of his hand, an’ his gun, an’ his ears
She told of his shirt, an’ the cut of his hair
Remembered his eyes, an’ his lips, an’ his cheeks
And Eva Splaine’s tale sent these men to the chair
I was right there in Boston the night that they died
I never did see such sight in my life
I thought the crowds would pull down the town
An’ I was hopin’ they’d do it and change things around
I hoped they’d pull Judge Thayer on down
From off of his bench and they’d chase him around
Hoped they’d run him around this stump
And stick him with a devil tails about ever’ jump
Wash this tequila down with gin
An’ a double straight shot of your black Virgin rum
My ale bubbled out an’ my champagne is flat
I hear the man comin’, I’m grabbin’ my hat