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I was [Am]born in a Dublin street where the [G]loyal drums do beat |
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And the [Am]loving English feet they walked all over us |
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And [C]each day and every night when my [G]father comes home tight |
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He'd [Am]invite the neighbors [G]outside with this [Am]chorus |
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[CHORUS] |
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Oh come [Am]out ye Black and Tans, come out and [G]fight me like a man |
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Show your [Am]wives how you won medals down in Flanders |
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Tell them [C]how the IRA made you [G]run like hell away |
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From the [Am]green and lovely [G]lanes in Kille[Am]shandra |
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[Am]Come let us hear you tell how you've [G]slandered great Parnell |
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When you [Am]thought him well and truly persecuted |
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Where [C]are your sneers and jeers that you [G]loudly let us hear |
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When [Am]our heroes of six[G]teen were exe[Am]cuted |
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[CHORUS] |
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[Am]Come tell us how you slew them old [G]Arabs two by two |
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Like the [Am]Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows |
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How [C]bravely you faced one with your [G]sixteen-pounder gun |
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And you've [Am]frightened them damn [G]natives to their [Am]marrows |
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[CHORUS] |
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[Am]Well the time is coming fast and I [G]think them days are here |
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When each [Am]English shod in heel will run before us |
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And [C]if there be a need then our [G]kids will say "god speed" |
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With [Am]a verse or two of [G]singing this fine [Am]chorus |
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[CHORUS] |
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[ADDITIONAL VERSE] |
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the day is coming fast and the time is here at last |
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when each yeoman will be cast aside before us |
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and if there be the need kindly send us a god's speed |
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and a verse or two of stephen behan's chorus |
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Alan [Am]Larkin and O`Brian held you [G]strong and called you swine |
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Robert [Am]Emmett who you hung and drew and quartered |
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High [C]upon the scaffold high, how you [G]butchered Henry Joy |
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And [Am]the Croppy Boys of [G]Wexford you did [Am]slaughter |
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[CHORUS] |
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Well the day is closing fast and the time will soon be past |
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When each dawning will be cast aside afore us |
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And if I be in need then me kids will say godspeed |
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With a bar or two of Stephen Behan`s chorus |
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For the day is coming fast and it will soon be here at last |
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When the North and South will again belong to Erin |
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And once John Bull is gone we will all join in this song |
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For the trumpets of freedom will be blaring |
