Compromiss Poem by Dan Uriel

We fought for the revolution,
We may not die, we must live
The creeps, the feathers, are waiting
And all the bourgeoisie wait with hunger.
The movement is waiting, work and family,
While exploitation fails,
Sickle flashes, hammer hits
And the lock is dropped from prison
And factory brother, help the fallen.

Everything else is in vain,
The bargain, the curse,
The silence, the word!
The building and the builder,
Downstairs and roof above,
The worker, the designer - -
Long live the work, the peasantry,
Will not be civil cunning,
Millions of feet up, Wow! Masses, on!