You brag about your washing, how fine it can feel,
But you're giving your employees a dirty deal
Come clean, Colgate-Palmolive, come clean,
Your labor relations are the worst I've ever seen.
You talk up a storm about your brand of soap,
But when it comes to grievances, the answer is "Nope!"
Prices go up but our wages stay down
Colgate-Palmolive is the meanest in town.
You talk as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth,
But wages and conditions are from the Deep South.
The Palmolive facial makes you young and fair
But when it comes to wages, we can live on air.
No health, no pension when you're old and gray,
Like an empty carton, they just throw you away.
We love to take a shower, those suds feel grand,
But till you arbitrate we'll use another brand.
You talk about things of every shape and kind
But it's busting our union that you have on your mind.
It's ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
We'll stay on this picket line as long as we must.
All around the country, all around the state,
We'll tell about the wringing we get from Colgate.
You're scented deodorant smells like a rose,
But your treatment of the workers makes me hold my nose.
The housewives will rally, and, what I mean
There'll be no more Fab in that washing machine.
The unions will rally, and we know they will,
And there'll be no more Ajax on the windowsill.
All across the country, every city and town,
We'll tell about the Palmolive run-around.