Текст: The Brandos. The Triangle Fire.

In Nineteen Hundred-Nine, from Donegal's shore
I sailed to old New York town
In the harbor Lady Liberty stands
I don't believe I'll again see Dear Ould Ireland
But the promise in these city streets is so grand
And it's there I'd wed my dear, sweet lass
A bricklayer's spade, my trade to be
And she slaved at the Triangle Shirt Factory
My God! - the dreadful conditions there
They toiled through dim light and stifling air
And gruelling hours the seamstress gave
To the industrial captains for a trifling wage

Though two years passed, we saw no change
And I grieved for my love's dark misery
Then word ran through the New York streets
There's a fire at the Triangle Shirt Factory
Twas only moments and the factory surrendered to flame
And the fire escapes soon gave way
In the windows huddled girls appeard
Flames licked at their backs, their faces gripped with fear
My God! - don't jump! came the firemen's roar
Whose ladders failed to reach the top floors
A last, shared glance and final embrace
They leaped to their tragic and senseless fate

Now I scream at the sky
There's got to be a reason why
Bewildered and grieved, I'm tangled and mired
My love is gone - oh the Triangle Fire
The world is so cold, desperate and dire
I've lost everything in the Triangle Fire

There was no reason, there was no rhyme, and now law
To save us from this crime at all
The owner's trial did reveal
That the girls were locked in - the doors had all been sealed
My God! - they've gone free! came our hopeless cry
The bossed won with their lawyers and lies
The Power and Greed again prevailed
And we were left to our sorrow, to our despair

I fear the future, I can envision the time
When our cityscape will touch the sky
Will men of Faith, of Wealth and Power
Spare their people a fate like the Triangle Fire?
My God! - forgive me! these men will cry
In Their final hour as they lay dying
And their victim's ghosts close in around
God alone may forgive their indifference now