I’ve pitched my tent down in Zuccotti Park.

and I haven’t a buck to pay for food.

I have not joined in merely for a lark.

I wish I had the way to make this good--

a stand in greedy Wall-Street’s neighborhood.

I come to pay the price for those who will

not eat each day; who may not get their fill.

 

I’ve come to fight for those who haven’t might

For those who have been lost within our land,

For those who sting with pale and mounting fright,

For those hoodwinked by bankers’ sleight-of-hand,

the folks whose castles turned into mere sand.

In league with much that’s right, I’ve come for all,

to stake a claim; to make the greedy crawl.

 

They come now, strong-- to beat about my head

I hunker down—affirmed, I make a stand

I hear the pounding—hard, I’m filled with dread

Above the din I hear a freedom band

It blares, it blasts, rings out across the land.

‘Occupy’ is our precious freedom’s cost

We’ll fight, push back, reclaim the lately lost.

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