There Tyranny still is exploiting its slaves,
And we buy rights to live, and, then, buy our graves;
Such flag of the free our poverty mocks
As the ways of progression the privileged Greed blocks;
But free land and free men make our flag’s holy sky,
And our winds never weary with Poverty’s cry.
Here man to his fellow is never for sale,
And free men to free men give good neighbor hail,
In whose cheery words we ever shall hear
The flap of our flag and our patriots’ cheer.