I was born on a Dublin street
Where the royal drums did beat
And the loving English feet walked all over us,
And every single night
When me father'd come home tight
He'd invite the neighbors outside with this chorus:
Oh, come out you black and tans,
Come out 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 in Killeshandra.
Come tell us how you slew
Them ol' Arabs two by two
Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows,
How you bravely faced each one
With your sixteen pounder gun
And you frightened them damn natives to their marrow.
Chorus
Come let us hear you tell
How you slandered great Parnell,
When you thought him well and truly persecuted,
Where are the sneers and jeers
That you bravely let us hear
When our heroes of sixteen were executed.
Chorus
The day is coming fast
And the time is here at last,
When each shoneen will be cast aside before us,
And if there be a need
Sure my kids will sing, "Godspeed!"
With a bar or two of Stephen Behan's chorus.
This entry was posted
on October 21, 2009
at Wednesday, October 21, 2009
and is filed under
poetry
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