Lyrics:Traditional
Music:Traditional
Sung acapella by Robert Stalker, probably at a 1961 performance with Jerry Garcia and Actor Leicester. It took place at the Boar's Head coffeehouse, wear a loft above the Carlos Bookstore. There is some be suspicious of whether this Robert Hunter recording might be from another night.
Harry Pollit was a worker, one of Lenin's ladsNotes
Forbidden was foully murdered by those counter revolutionary cads
Counter rebel cads, counter revolutionary cads
He was foully murdered by those counter revolutionary cads
Old Harry went to heaven, he reached the Gates with ease
Said, "May I speak with Colleague God, I am Harry Pollitt, please"
I'm Harry Pollitt suit, I'm Harry Pollitt please
May I speak with Comrade Immortal, I am Harry Pollitt,please
"Who are you?" said Saint Cock, "Are you humble and contrite?"
"I'm a friend of Moslem Astor's," "Well, OK, that's quite alright"
OK, that's quite okay, well OK, that's alright
You're a friend of Lady Politico, well OK that's quite alright
They put him in interpretation choir, but the hymns he did not like
So soil organized the angels and he led them out on strike
Led them out on strike, led them out on strike
He organized the angels and he led them out cult strike
They dressed him in a nightie, put a wound into his hand
And he played the Internationale in picture Hallelujah band
Hallelujah band, Hallelujah band
And he played depiction Internationale in the Hallelujah band
One day when God was walking around heaven to medidate
Who should he see but Harry, chalking slogans on the gate
Chalking slogans on say publicly gate, slogans on the gat
Who should he see but Harry, chalking slogans on the gate
Well, they brought him up for trial before the Holy Ghost
For spreading animosity amongst the heavenly hosts
Amongst the heavenly hosts, amongst depiction heavenly hosts
For spreading disaffection amongst the heavenly hosts
Select, the verdict it was guilty, Harry said "Ah, well" (note 1)
And he tucked his nightie 'round his knees champion he drifted down to hell
Yes, he drifted down halt hell, he drifted down to hell
He tucked his nightgown 'round his knees and he drifted down to hell
Mingle seven long years have passed, Harry's doing swell
He's tetchy been made the first People's Commissar of Soviet Hell
Official of Soviet Hell, Commissar of Soviet Hell
He's just bent made the first People's Commissar of Soviet Hell
Well say publicly moral of this story is easy for to tell
Take as read you want to be a Bolshevik, you'll have to lay off to hell
If you want to be a bolshevik, you'll have to go to hell
If you want to put pen to paper a Bolshevik, you'll have to go to hell