| The people’s flag is deepest red
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| It shrouded oft our martyred dead
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| And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold
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| Their hearts' blood dyed to every fold
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| Then raise the scarlet standard high
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| Beneath its folds we’ll live and die
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| Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer
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| We’ll keep the red flag flying here
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| It waved above our infant might
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| When all ahead seemed dark as night
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| It witnessed many a deed and vow
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| We must not change its colour now
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| It well recalls the triumphs past
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| It gives the hope of peace at last
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| The banner bright, the symbol plain
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| Of human right and human gain
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| It suits today the meek and base
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| Whose minds are fixed on pelf and place
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| To cringe beneath the rich man’s frown
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| And haul that sacred emblem down
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| With heads uncovered swear we all
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| To bare it onward till we fall
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| Come dungeons dark or gallows grim
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| This song shall be our parting hymn
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| Words: Jim Connell Music: «The White Cockade» |