In the hell holes and sweatshops of the world,
Below the living wage line;
At the bottom, forgotten by time,
Invisibles, with no name or face,
Sold as bargains, in the global market place,
On the margins of this one human race.

On the shelves at the Wal-marts and malls,
and the big shopping chains,
‘Neath the labels of the fancy brand names,
Far from the eyes of the consumer parade,
Behind the lies of the commercial masquerade,
Under the guise of what they call ‘free trade’ –

[Chorus] It’s just the armies of the working class poor,
Knockin’ on infinity’s back door;
It’s just the unfree of the global economy,
Roaring in silence at you and me – to be free.

[Refrain] Their sweat and blood flows through our clothes
down through the souls of  our shoes;
And the toys that keep our children amused.
And I will be damned, if the people don’t stand
And choose to refuse,
When they hear the news-when they see  the truth.

[CHORUS] It’s just the armies of the working class poor,
Knockin’ on infinity’s back door;
It’s just the unfree of the global economy,
Screaming for some humanity;
It’s just the armies of the working class poor,

Knockin’ on infinity’s back door;
It’s just the unfree of the global economy,
Roaring in silence at you and me – to be free –
We won’t be free – till they are free.     

Words & Music by: C. Michael Stout, January, 2000