The Tricolour

They’ve dragged you in the mud ashore: the flag we loved so well
The flag that led our gallant boys when they nobly fought and fell
When Paudric Pearse unfolded you that fateful Easter morn
Your bars were pure and undefiled but now they’re soiled and torn.

We brought you here from sunny France that land of libertie
We thought you’d thrive on Irish soil when Ireland would be free
Alas’ alas t’was but a dream’ we’re still a land of slaves
And your bars of white and green and gold wave o’er the prison caves

We loved you brave old tricolour, bold emblem of the brave
Tis sad your tarnished now by the traitor and the slave
It fills the hearts with grief and shame of every Irish Boy
To see the flag they fought for o’er the portals of Mountjoy

You have seen fair France a wilderness with murder in the air
When Marat ruled with Danton and the monster Robespierre
But their reign of terror ended when they faced the guillotine
And the eagles of Napoleon flew from Lisbon to the Rhine

We have monsters now in Ireland who their country would degrade
We have Cosgrove and Mulcahy and skunk Tim the renegade
With their foul and savage murders and their loathsome prison cells
They have made our happy Irish bones a living earthly hell

But don’t despair bold tricolour for we’ll raise you once again
And we’ll stand by the Republic though our bravest men be slain
And our brave young Irish Fenian boys will fight with heart and hand
Till the sun of freedom shines again on dear old Ireland.

Mac Fhionnlaith