A volunteer in his nations struggle,
Another soldier in the G.P.O.,
The rising failed - our leaders captured,
The English grip would not let go.
But Michael would return to lead us,
In our fight to re-claim our lands,
The I.R.B. will march victorious,
For they shall have the upper hand.

He railled men from far ans wide,
To join the rebellion that lay ahead,
His murder squad was formed in earnest,
The secret service soon lay dead.
In reprisal the British army killed,
Innocent people watching a hurling game,
That day would become a turning point,
Irish psyche would never be the same.

The customs house was set on fire,
The I.R.B. became the I.R.A.,
The time was nigh to call a cease-fire,
July 1th would be that day.
De Valera, our elected president,
Knew a republic he would not get,
He sent Collins to meet the British,
He sent Collins to his death!

The British treaty was signed by Collins,
A free state was all they would give,
A step towards independence,
Is better that a war we cannot win.
Many people did not agree with him,
Civil war split the country in two,
Michael would die from an Irish bullet,
He gave his best, what more could he do?

A scourge on the world from the earliest days,
Christ, his church and his sinister ways.
Starter of wars, Instigator of crimes,
Despoiler of cultures, Destroyer of minds.

More people have died in the name of Christ,
Than any other in the history of life.
You kill all who oppose your perfidious might,
A religion of conquest born in black light.

Our father who art in heaven,
Corruption be thy name,
You blind your people with lies,
False prophet your only gain.
Thy kingdom come and be done,
Your time is now at an end,
The veil is slowly being lifted,
Your past you must try to defend.

They prey on our children so young and naive,
These pedophile bastards they are a disease,
They preach about love, or so I am told,
But the love that they practice is twisted and cold.

I hear you calling,
Your voice so fair,
I reach out to touch you
But know you're not there.

The summer is ending,
Clouds darken the sky,
As the rain starts to fall,
I weep and I cry.

No more can I see you,
Now you have passed on,
The world seems so lifeless
And cold with you gone.

I look at the place,
Were we both used to lie,
And think of times past,
With a tear in my eye.

A tale of honor I will now tell,
About a man, strong and true,
Brian Boru was his name,
And through his deeds a nation grew.
He was born in a time of bondage,
The viking raiders claimed his lands,
His hatred grew when he saw his mother
Killing by vicious viking hands.

His brother Mahon strived for peace,
Brian knew it would never come,
The vikings have us by the throat!
They kill our children just for.
Boru left with a group of men,
They rode into the fading light,
He would attack the many viking camps,
And vanish in the dark of night.

Brian Boru, our beloved son,
Fought the Dane, he fought and won.
Losy his life at eighty eight,
Death by a viking blade was his fate.

Brian Boru, our last Ard Ri,
Led the Gael to victory.
Could not stand his countries plight,
He removed the vikings from his sight.

Malachy, the king of Meath, with Brian face to face,
They both agreed that Brian should take,
The monarchy of the Gaelic race,
Brian had much word to do,
To heal the wounds of Danish reign,
He planned a massive call to arms,
To remove the last of the Dane.

To Clontarf Brian's army marched,
To give the Dane their final fight,
The army charged with swords help high,
The viking line was soon in sight.
The battle rages for many hours,
And many fine warriors fell,
But victory was always ours,
The Gaelic might could not be quelled.

Brian Boru, our beloved son,
Fought the Dane, he fought and won.
Losy his life at eighty eight,
Death by a viking blade was his fate.

Brian Boru, our last Ard Ri,
Led the Gael to victory.
Could not stand his countries plight,
He removed the vikings from his sight.

I watch the sky turning black,
And know the time is fast approaching,
My clan they all look to me,
I turn away, I face the ocean.
In the dark I see a fleet of long-ships on the horizon,
Again the Vikings come, to this land they are a poison.

Archers ready your bows, swordsmen ready your blades,
Gods be with us this night, as we stop this barbarian raids.
Their boats now pulled to shore,
Scrawny men pour forth from the hull,
Their faces look ailing and drawn
But their minds are bent on the cull.

On they come, these viking raiders, pale and grey,
With withered bodies and swords to slay.
Charging forth, from filthy ships, towards our line,
But we are butchers and they are our swine.

By ready men, they fast approach, the time is here
Stand firm at your line and show to fear,
From the north, this army comes, to raid our lands,
But instead tonight they will die by Gaelic hands.

I give the call to attack, and we charge towards the Vikings,
Arrows scream over head, and begin this night of killing.
I watch as the armies collide, flesh and bone gets torn asunder,
So many of my warriors die, as they stop viking plunder.

In the distance I see, their leader so wretched and vile,
Leading his men with pride, I see his weakness and I smile,
Caught up in his stupor of greed, I slice his head from his neck,
His cowardly men run away, victory is ours this day.

Chorus:
Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, the devil is dead,
Some say the devil is dead, and buried in Killarney.
More say he rose again, more say he rose again,
More say he rose again and joined the British Army.

Feed the pigs and milk the cow, and milk the cow, and milk the cow,
Feed the pigs and milk the cow, early in the morning.
Cock your leg, oh Paddy dear, Paddy dear I'm over here,
Cock your leg, oh Paddy dear, it's time to stop your yawning.

Chorus

Katie she is tall and thin, she's tall and thin, and tall and thin,
Katie she is tall and thin, and like her drops of brandy.
Drinks it in the bed each night, drinks it in the bed each night,
Drinks it in the bed each night, it makes her nice and randy.

Chorus

The wife she has the hairy thing, a hairy thing, a hairy thing,
The wife she has the hairy thing, she showed it to me on Sunday.
She bought it in the furrier's shop, bought it in the furrier's shop,
She bought it in the furriers's shop, it's going back on Monday.

Chorus

My one's over six feet tall, six feet tall, six feet tall,
My one's over six feet tall, she likes the sugar candy.
Goes to bed at six o'clock, goes to bed at six o'clock,
Goes to bed at six o'clock, she's lazy, fat and dandy.

As I look out across the sea,
I stand proud but am I free?
A thousand years have come and gone,
I have won, I will go on.
Stand firm against the storm,
I cannot see it but it will come.
And with the ghosts of a million Gaels,
I will rise up, I will prevail.

You can starve my children,
You can kill my fighting man,
Take away my right to freedom,
And when my back is turned you kill again.
You can burn my houses,
Take away all that I have known.
But the seeds are sown.

When the Dane invaded,
The held the Gael with a strangle-hold.
Until Boru joined to clans,
He won the war, re-claimed my lands.
My green fields have been stained red,
From the blood of the Irish dead,
But with this fire that burns inside,
I will always rebel, I will survive.

You can starve my children,
You can kill my fighting man,
Take away my right to freedom,
And when my back is turned you kill again.
You can burn my houses,
Take away all that I have known,
But the seeds are sown.

I am the wind that blows over the sea,
I am the wave of the ocean,
I am the murmur of the billows,
I am the ox of the seven combats,
I am a vulture on the rock,
I am a ray of the sun,
I am the fairest of plants,
I am a wild boar in valour.

Come with me, I'll show you eternity,
This magical ring, it holds the key to everything,
Our faerie land, the forests and mountains you see,
Created by magic, cast from the Gods and the Sidhe.

I am a salmon in the water,
I am a lake in the plain,
I am the craft of the artificer,
I am a word of science,
I am the god that creates,
In the head of man the fire of thought.
I am the spear-point cast in battle.
I am the druid, I am the God.

Come with me, I'll show you eternity,
This magical ring, it holds the key to everything,
Our faerie land, the forests and mountains you see,
Who shows the place where the sun goes to rest if not I?

The most beautiful city built on the middle-earth,
It's splendour was highly acclaimed,
The Noldor Elf grew mighty and strong,
In the land were Turgon Reigned,
Then Tuor was sent by Ulmo-
The lord of the ocean and sea,
To tell the people of Gondolin,
Prepare to fight or flee.

But Turgon he was stubborn,
"That will I not do!".
He had grown to love his city,
And the terror of Morgoth he knew.

The city was discovered,
And Morgoth sent his legions,
Orc warriors with the fire-drakes,
Led by the Balrog demons.

They appeared before the gates and quickly the Gates fell,
The way was now clear, through the Elven halls,
The orcs of such hatred poured into the breath,
With scimitars they stabbed both man and beast.

The Noldor Elf advanced with hammer of wrath,
And the kindred of the tree-bravely they fought,
The blows from their hammers, the dint of their clubs,
The orcs fell like leaves but this was not enough.

The lord of the Balrogs gathered his demons,
And made for the folk of the hammer.
They fled in terror rather than of craft,
Down in the plain they all gathered.
But the fire-drake was loosed upon them-
In the house of the hammer they died.
Still it is sung that each Elf of the hammer,
Took the lives of seven orcs to pay for their own.

Gothmog drove the dragons into the cities heart,
Orcs and Noldor fell under the confusion.
The cold-drakes began to tear the streets apart.
The Noldor began to realise the battle they'd lose.

The most beautiful city built on the middle-earth,
It's splendour was highly acclaimed'
The Noldor Elf grew mighty and strong.
In the land were Turgon Reigned,
But now it lay akin to ruins,
As the fire devoured its insides,
The last hope for the Elves who lived-
Was to run and flee abd hide.

But Turgon he was stubborn
"That will I not do!"
He stayed to die with the city,
The only one he knew.