James Connolly
(Traditional)



A great crowd had gathered outside of Kilmeinhem
With their heads uncovered they knelt on the ground
From 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 the 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 I.R.A. 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
For above all the din rose the cry 'No Surrender'
'Twas the voice of James Cannolly, the Irish Rebel