| I was born in Dublin streets where the Loyalist drums did beat
|
| And the bloody English boots trampled all over us
|
| And every single night when me da' would came home tight
|
| He’d invite the neighbors outside with this Come out you black and tans,
|
| come on and fight me like a man
|
| Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders
|
| Tell her how the IRA made you run like hell away
|
| From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra
|
| Tell her how you bravely slew them poor Arabs two by two
|
| Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows
|
| Tell her how faced down one with your sixteen pounder gun
|
| And you frightened them poor natives to their marrow
|
| Come on and let us hear you tell how you slammed the great Parnell
|
| When you fought them well and truly persecuted
|
| Where all those sneers and cheers that you bravely let us hear
|
| When our heroes of sixteen were executed
|
| The day is coming fast and the time will soon be near
|
| When each yeoman will be cast aside before us
|
| And if there be a need sure my kids will sing God speed
|
| With a verse of two of Steven Beehan’s |