A great crowd had gathered Outside of Kilmainhaim,
With their heads 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,

He Went to his death like a true son of Ireland,
The firing party he bravely did face,
Then the order rang out: "Present arms, fire,"
James Connolly fell into a ready made grave.

The black flag they hoisted, the cruel deed was over,
Gone was a man who loved Ireland so well,
There was many a sad heart in Dublin that morning,
When they murdered James Connolly, the Irish Rebel.

God's curse on you England, you cruel-hearted monster
Your deeds 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 rolled by since that Irish rebellion,
When the guns of Britannia they loudly did speak.
The bold IRA they stood shoulder to shoulder
And the blood from their bodies flowed down Sackville Street

The Four Courts of Dublin the English bombarded,
The spirit of freedom they tried hard to quell,
But above all the din rose the cry "No Surrender",
'Twas the voice of James Connolly, the Irish Rebel.

Oh my name is Joe McDonnell
From Belfast town I came
That city I will never see again
For in the town of Belfast
I spent many happy days
And I loved that town in oh so many ways
For it's there I spent my childhood
And found for me a wife
I then set out to make for her a life
Oh but all my young ambition
Met with bitterness and hate
I soon found myself inside a prison gate

And you dare to call me a terrorist
While you look down your gun
When I think of all the deeds that you have done -
You have plundered many nations
Divided many lands
You have terrorized their people
You ruled with an iron hand
And you brought this reign of terror to my land

Through the many months internment
In the Maidstone and the Maze
I thought about my land throughout those days
Why my country was divided
Why I was now in jail
Imprisoned without crime or without trial
And though I love my country
I am not a bitter man
I've seen cruelty and injustice at first hand
And so one faithful morning
I shook bold freedom's hand
For right or wrong I tried to free my land

Then one cold October's morning
I was trapped in the lion's den
And I found myself in prison once again
I was committed to the H-Blocks
For fourteen years or more
On the "blanket" the conditions they were poor
Then a hunger strike we did commence
For the dignity of man
But it seemed to me that no one gave a damn
Oh but now I am a saddened man
I've watched my comrades die
If only people cared or wondered why

Oh may God shine on you, Bobby Sands
For the courage you have shown
May your glory and your fame be widely known
And Francis Hughes and Ray McCreesh
Who died unselfishly
And Patsy O'Hara, and the next in line is me
And those who lie behind me
May your courage be the same
And I pray to god my life was not in vain

And though sad and bitter was the year of 1981
All was not lost, but it's still there to be won

'Twas down by Brannigan's Corner, one morning I did stray
I met a fellow rebel, and to me he did say
"We've orders from the captain to assemble at Dunbar
But how are we to get there, without a motor car?"

"Oh, Barney dear, be of good cheer, I'll tell you what we'll do
The specials they are plentiful, the I.R.A. are few
We'll send a wire to Johnson to meet us at Stranlar
And we'll give the boys a bloody good ride in Johnson's Motor Car

When doctor Johnson heard the news he soon put on his shoes
He says this is an urgent case, there is no time to lose
He then put on his castor hat and on his breast a star
You could hear the din all through Glenfin of Johnson's Motor Car

But when he got to the railway bridge, some rebels he saw there
Old Johnson knew the game was up, for at him they did stare
He said "I have a permit, to travel near and far"
"To hell with your English permit, we want your motor car"

"What will my local brethren think, when they hear the news
My car it has been commandeered, by the rebels at Dunluce"
"We'll give you a receipt for it, all signed by Captain Barr
And when Ireland gets her freedom, boy, you'll get your motor car"

Well we put that car in motion and filled it to the brim
With guns and bayonets shining which made old Johnson grim
And Barney hoisted a Sínn Fein flag, and it fluttered like a star
And we gave three cheers for the I.R.A. and Johnson's Motor Car

The John Thomson Song

unknown

A young lad named John Thomson,
From the west of Fife he came,
To play for Glasgow Celtic,
And to build himself a name.

On the fifth day of September,
'gainst the Rangers club he played,
From defeat he saved the Celtic,
Ah but what a price he paid.

The ball rolled from the centre,
Young John ran out and dived,
The ball rolled by; young John lay still,
For his club this hero died.

I took a trip to Parkhead,
To the dear old Paradise,
And as the players came out,
Sure the tears fell from my eyes.

For a famous face was missing,
From the green and white brigade,
And they told me Johnny Thomson,
His last game he had played.

Farewell my darling Johnny,
Prince of players we must part,
No more we'll stand and cheer you,
On the slopes of Celtic Park.

Now the fans they all are silent,
As they travel near and far,
No more they'll cheer John Thomson,
Our bright and shining star.

So come all you Glasgow Celtic,
Stand up and play the game,
For between your posts there stands a ghost,
Johnny Thomson is his name