I'm singing you the ballad Of a great man of the cloth His name was Harry Lewis And he worked for Irving Roth He died while cutting velvet On a hot July the 4th But his cloth goes shining on Glory, glory Harry Lewis Glory, glory Harry Lewis Glory, glory Harry Lewis His cloth goes shining on Oh Harry Lewis perished In the service of his Lord He was trampling through the warehouse Where the drapes of Roth are stored He had the finest funeral The union could afford And his cloth goes shining on Glory, glory Harry Lewis Glory, glory Harry Lewis Glory, glory Harry Lewis His cloth goes shining on Although a fire was raging Harry stood by his machine And when the firemen broke in They discovered him between A pile of roasted Dacron And some french fried gabardine His cloth goes shining on Glory, glory Harry Lewis Glory, glory Harry Lewis Glory, glory Harry Lewis His cloth goes shining on