Last night I had a happy dream, though restless where I be
I dreamed again, brave Irishmen, had set old Ireland free
And how I got excited, when the cannons loud did roar
Oh Gra mo chree, I long to see, old Ireland free once more

Now we can't forget the former years, they're kept in memory still
Of the Wexford men of '98, who fought on Vinegar Hill
With Father Murphy at their side, and the green flag waving o'er
Oh Gra mo chree, I long to see, old Ireland free once more

There is a place just outside Lisburn
It´s a place that´s known to few
Where a group of Irish rebels
Are held by Faulkner´s crew
There are forced to live in cages
Like the inmates of Bellevue
But the spirit of 1916
Will always see them through

The men in this vile place
They come from far and near
Some from the Derry Bogside
And Omagh town so near
And some of them from Belfast
From the Markets and the Falls
From the narrow streets of Ardoyne
And all around Tyrone

On that black day in August
When Faulkner showed his hand
He thought that by internment
He could break our gallant band
But the boys from Ballymurhy
How they showed the way that night
How they thaught those English soldiers
How Irishmen could fight

Long Kesh it´s known to everyone
The system must be broke
Ardoyne, the New Lodge and the Falls
Will see the system choke
No more the Special Powers Act
The means will envoke
And Long Kesh will be the U stone
On which the system´s broke

A word now Irish people
No matter where you are
Remember our brave rebels
In Long Kesh this year
And by civil disobedience
Or any other way
We´ll make a stand until the day
Each one of them are free

It was on the first day of the year in 1969
We gathered at the City Hall, the weather being fine.
With McCann in front to lead us, Michael Farrell in the van
Off on the long march to Derry.

Hurrah, hurrah, we proudly marched along,
Hurrah, hurrah, we sang our marching song:
The battle cry of liberty went ringing loud and clear
All on the long march to Derry.

As we marched to Antrim Town, the bridge we found was blocked
There stood a certain major with a feather in his cap;
"No Fenian foot shall e'er pollute this sacred ground we hold
We'll soon stop your long march to Derry".

Now Toomebridge Town was good, we found; the people stood and cheered
And everyone supported us whenever we appeared.
We crossed the bridge where McCorley died with our banners flyin' high
Off on the long march to Derry.

They ambushed us at Irish Street and at Burntollett, too,
And the air was thick with stones and bricks, and the missiles fairly flew.
But we got up and struggled on, though battered black and blue,
To finish the long march to Derry.

Well, now the march is over, we can lay our banners down
For the world has seen what Ulster's like while loyal to the Crown.
And generations yet unborn will live to toast the boys
Who went on the long march to Derry.