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.
How my heart sings 