I card the wool to make it clean
Been at this mill since I was fourteen
My father bought papers that state my age
I’ve been working here since that day

I am marching in the dark
Soaked by fire hoses
And I am singing in the snow
For bread and roses

This morning I walked to work in the snow
Watched by the black mill windows
They watch what we do so we watch what we say
For the water we drink they take our pay

 We are marching ...

There’s women that don’t speak the language like me
There’s women with five and six mouths to feed
They work the long days – they don’t much complain
Get up each day just to start in again

 We are marching …

So wrapped up in shawls to ward off the cold
I take my sign and step out the door
I carry these words like a candle of hope
Like the flame you find in a single red rose

 I am marching …

 We are marching ...

 Bring us roses in the snow

Roses in the Snow