Knappogue
All along that singing river, that black mass of men was seen, high above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green! Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune, And hoorah me boys for freedom 'tis the rising of the moon!
When boyhood's fire was in my blood
I read of ancient freemen,
For Greece and Rome who bravely stood,
Three hundred men and three men;
And then I prayed I yet might see
Our fetters rent in twain,
And Ireland, long a province, be.
A Nation once again!
A Nation once again,
A Nation once again,
And lreland, long a province, be
A Nation once again!
Oh, I am a merry ploughboy,and I plough the fields all day
Till a sudden thought came to my head, that I should roam away
For I'm sick and tired of slavery since the day that I was born
And I'm off to join the IRA and I'm off tomorrow morn!
… And we're all off to Dublin in the green, in the green
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
To the rattle of a Thompson gun