Lyrics

The old man with the face you have seen,
tough and kind, and none too bright...
...the face you have seen
getting on the street car
at the mill gate stop
or the gusty corner,
now, under the blood-soaked handkerchief
looks out at you
with blood oozing down the forehead
from under the handkerchief
and blood on the collar of the old overcoat...
...Whose America? somebody asked
and is this the answer?

Another old man with the face you also have seen,
a face you have seen
getting out of the limousine at the bank entrance
or the War Department...
...Berserk cop with the brandished club
the armored bus spraying gas on the pickets
the mobbing howl of the press
and the rabies in Congress
"To the electric chair with the strikers!"

Whose America anyhow?