To the rich mans bright lodges I ride in this wind
On my good horse I call you my shiny black bess
To the playhouse of fortune
To take the bright silver
And gold you have taken from somebody else
As we go riding in the damp foggy midnight
You snort, my good pony, and you give me your best
For you know, and I know, good horse,
mongst the rich ones
How oftimes we go there an unwelcome guest
Ive never took food from the widows and orphans
And never a hard working man I oppressed
So take your pace easy,
For home soon like lightning
We soon will be riding, my shiny black bess
No fat rich mans pony can ever overtake you
And theres not a rider from the east to the west
Could hold you a light
In this dark mist and midnight
When the potbellied thieves
Chase their unwelcome guest
I dont know, good horse,
As we trot in this dark here
That robbing the rich is for worse or for best
They take it by stealing and lying and gambling
And I take it my way, my shiny black bess
I treat horses good and Im friendly to strangers
I ride and your running makes my guns talk the best
And the rangers and deputies
Are hired by the rich man
To catch me and hang me, my shining black bess
Yes, theyll catch me napping one day
And theyll kill me
And then Ill be gone but that wont be my end
For my guns and my saddle will always be filled
By unwelcome travellers and other brave men
And theyll take the money and spread it out equal
Just like the Bible and the prophets suggest
But the men that go riding to help these poor workers
The rich will cut down like an unwelcome guest
Words: woody guthrie 1940 - music: billy bragg