Intelligent Nobodies

A cold grey day, I’m pedaling slow,
Up Pope’s Hill, where the workers go.
Train Street’s whispering tales of the past,
On this electric bike, my will’s steadfast.
Gloves on tight, gripping the steel,
Thought of home, warm chair, that cozy feel.
But the call from Copley was loud and clear,
Rallying cries drowned out the fear.

[Chorus]
So on I ride, down Mass Ave’s vein,
Empty sidewalks echoing the pain.
In the heart of the struggle, I found my place,
Defend the workers, a fight we embrace.

[Verse 2]
Students and workers, the voices arise,
Intelligent nobodies, no glory in their eyes.
Names that never make it to the pages of fame,
Yet here we stand, igniting the flame.

https://xenagoguevicene.wordpress.com/2025/02/14/intelligent-nobodies-worker-arisen-a-song/