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 he'd 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