Ireland

Oh, it’s Bloody Sunday here in Britain

An obituary is easily written

Many people shot and killed

As slowly grind God’s many mills

So civilised we are always right

Did these people not want to fight?

Cowards here the unarmed men

Shot by Britain now again

Women too may mingle in

We’re not averse to shooting them

Our care and manners are skin deep

We’re barbarians , you are sheep.

Ireland starved and treated ill

I am angry at this still

Now we know if there’s Civil War

The army is trained to shoot us all

Black and white,Fenian green

The mountains mourn for they have seen.