The Ballad of Barney Graham
On April the thirtieth
Nineteen thirty-three
Upon the streets of Wilder
They shot him brave and free
They shot my darling father
He fell upon the ground
Twas in the back they shot him
His blood came streaming down
They took the pistol handles
And beat him on the head
The hired gunmen beat him
Til he was cold and dead
When he left home that morning
I though hed never return
But for my darlin father
My heart shall ever yearn
We carried him to the graveyard
There we laid him down
To sleep in death for many a year
In the cold and sodden ground
Although he left the union
He tried so hard build
His blood was spilled for justice
And justice guides us still