Michael Collins

Come listen all me true men to my simple rhyme

For it tells of a young man cut off in his prime

A soldier and a statesman who laid down the law, and,

To die by the roaside in lone Beal na Bla

When barely sixteen to England crossed o'er

For to work as a boy in a government store

But the Volunteers call he could not disobey

So he came back to Dublin to join in the fray

-Chorus-

At Easter nineteen sixteen when Pearse called them out

The men from the Dublin battalion roved out

And in the pos toffice they nobley did show

How a handful of heros could outfight the foe.

To Stafford and jails transported they were

As prisonners of England they soon made a stir

Released before Christmas and home once again

He banded old comrades together to train

Dail Eireann assembled our rights to proclaim

Suppressed by the English you'd think it's a shame

How Ireland's best and bravest were harried and torn

From the Arms of their loved ones and children new born.

For years Mick eluded their soldiers and spies

For he was the master of clever disguise

With the Custom House blazing she found t'was no use

And soon Mother England had asked for a truce

Oh when will the young men a sad lesson spurn

That brother and brother they never should turn

Alas that a split in our ranks 'ere we saw

Mick Collins stretched lifeless in lone Beal na Bla

Oh long will old Ireland be seeking in vain

Ere we find a new leader to match the man slain

A true son of Grainne his name long will shine

O gallant Mick Collins cut off in his prime.