Biography:
Bruce "Utah" Phillips (b. May 15, 1935 in Cleveland, Ohio; d. May 23, 2008 in Nevada City, Calif.) was a labor organizer, folk singer, songwriter, storyteller, poet and self-described "Golden Voice of the Great Southwest". He described the struggles of working people, labor unions and the power of direct action. He often promoted the Industrial Workers of the World in his music, actions, and words. His original songs include the often-covered "Green Rolling Hills of West Virginia" and "Rock salt and nails."
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G C
One cold autumn morning the leaves had turned brown
G D
A hobo came tramping through a small western town
G C
He walked through the church yard to the preacher?s back door
G D G
Where he knew there was refuge and room for the poor
Chorus: (Chorus and verses follow same chord pattern as above)
Is there room for the poor across the divide
Where bums don?t go hungry and freezing outside
Or will they be driven from the Savior?s back door
Oh say up in heaven is there room for the poor
He knocked and then waited for the preacher to come
With just a kind word for a broken down bum
The preacher arrived and looked out in dismay
With a few angry words he?d drive him away
Chorus
Oh if you won?t offer me something to eat
May I sit here a moment and rest my poor feet
I?ve traveled so far now I?m weary and sore
Oh say up in heaven is there room for the poor
Chorus (x2)
One cold autumn morning the leaves had turned brown
G D
A hobo came tramping through a small western town
G C
He walked through the church yard to the preacher?s back door
G D G
Where he knew there was refuge and room for the poor
Chorus: (Chorus and verses follow same chord pattern as above)
Is there room for the poor across the divide
Where bums don?t go hungry and freezing outside
Or will they be driven from the Savior?s back door
Oh say up in heaven is there room for the poor
He knocked and then waited for the preacher to come
With just a kind word for a broken down bum
The preacher arrived and looked out in dismay
With a few angry words he?d drive him away
Chorus
Oh if you won?t offer me something to eat
May I sit here a moment and rest my poor feet
I?ve traveled so far now I?m weary and sore
Oh say up in heaven is there room for the poor
Chorus (x2)
Utopians
Uut Permatasari
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Uvertira
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