Never knowing the reason why
But whoever treasures freedom
Like the swallow has learned to fly†
The bosses and their friends are there, there's no more reds in the union.
They give us food, they give us beer,
But one thing seems so very queer:
We eat that good but once a year, there's no more reds in the union!††
Salloom, Sinclair, and Mother Bear
What became of the Bloomington minstrels?