The Ballad of James Connolly

A great crowd had gathered outside Kilmainham

With their heads all uncovered they knelt to 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 did face

Then the order rang out: "Present arms, fire!!"

James Connolly fell into a ready-made grave.

The black flag was 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's no flowers blooming but the shamrock is growing

On the grave of James Connolly, the Irish rebel.

Many years have rolled by since the 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 to quell

but above the din rose the cry "No Surrender!!!"

'Twas the voice of James Connolly, the Irish Rebel.