If I dig in the mines of the frozen north,
I’ll dig with a will; the ore I bring forth
May yet make a knife – a knife for the throat of the Tsar.
If I toil in the south, I’ll plough and sow
Good honest hemp; who knows, I may grow
A rope – a rope for the neck of the Tsar!”
A nineteenth century jewish anarchist hymn, apparently, quoted in “Jenks, C. (2004). Urban culture: critical concepts in literary and cultural studies. Taylor & Francis.”. I’d love to hear the rest if you’ve got it