James Connolly

A great crowd had gathered outside of Kilmainham
With their heads all uncovered, they knelt on the ground
For inside that grim prison lay a brave Irish soldier
His life for his country, about to lay down
While he went to his death like a true son of Ireland
And the firing party he bravely did face
When the order rang out to present arms and fire
James Connolly fell into a ready made grave

While the black flag was hoisted, the cruel deed was over
Gone was the man who loved Ireland so well
There was many a sad heart in Ireland that morning
When they murdered James Connolly, the Irish rebel
God's curse on you England, you cruel hearted tyrant
Your deed they would shame, all the devils in hell
There are no flowers blooming, but the shamrock is growing
On the grave of James Connolly, the Irish rebel

Many years have gone by since the Irish rebellion
When the guns of Britannia, they loudly did speak
And the bold IRA, they stood shoulder to shoulder
As the blood from their bodies flowed down Sackville street
Well the four courts in Dublin, the British bombarded
And the spirit for freedom they tried hard to quell
But above all that dim came the cry "no surrender!"
It was the voice of James Connolly, the Irish rebel