Harry Pollitt was a Bolshie, and one of Lenin's lads,
Till he was foully murdered by the anti-Bolshie cads.
Chorus
The anti-Bolshie cads, the anti-Bolshie cads,
Till he was foully murdered by the anti-Bolshie cads.

He floated up to heaven with the greatest ease,
then knocked upon the Golden Gates, I'm Harry Pollitt Please.
Chorus
I'm Harry Pollitt please, I'm Harry Pollitt please.
He knocked upon the Golden Gates, I'm Harry Pollitt please.

They gave him a nice white nightie and a harp upon a stand,
And he played the International with the Halleluja band.
Chorus
The Halleluja band, the Halleluja band,
He played the International with the Halleluja band.

One day when God was walking out to meditate
He caught our Harry Pollitt chalking slogans on the Gate.
Chorus
Chalking slogans on the Gate, chalking slogans on the Gate,
He caught our Harry Pollitt chalking slogans on the Gate.

They bought him up for trial before the Holy Ghost
For spreading disaffection among the heavenly host.
Chorus
Among the heavenly host, among the heavenly host.
For spreading disaffection among the heavenly host.

The verdict it was guilty, as far as we can tell,
So Harry tucked his nightie round his knees and floated down to Hell.
Chorus
He floated down to Hell, he floated down to Hell,
Harry tucked his nightie round his knees and floated down to Hell.

Seven long years have passed away, and Harry's doing well,
They've made him Peoples' Commissar for Communistic Hell!
Chorus
For Communistic Hell, for Communistic Hell
They've made him Peoples' Commissar for Communistic Hell.

The moral of this story, as plain as we can tell,
Is if you want to be a Bolshie, you've got to go to Hell.
Chorus
You've got to go to Hell, you've got to go to Hell,
If you want to be a Bolshie, you've got to GO TO HELL.