They threw Bobby Sands in his prime
For fighting to free his own country
The English they count it a crime
"I'll not be named a criminal or thief
By the thieves who have plundered our land
Not a morsel more of food or drink
Will I take from the tyrant's hand"
He held to his fast for sixty-six days
Till his young frame grew shriveled and old
But the weaker that his body became
The stronger the light of his soul
"We have battled before with the weapons of war
With the gun and the bomb and the knife
And Ireland's a colonized nation still
Now my weapon will be my life"
Bobby's mother came to his prison cell
She said, "Oh my son, I must try
To save your life, if ever I can
For how can I watch you die?"
"Oh mother, do not mourn for me
For I'm fighting to set Ireland free
I am making a gift to my country
Of the gift that you first gave to me.
"Oh sister, you loaned me your voice
When they silenced the sound of my own
And after I am dead and gone
You will speak out as loud and as strong"
He turned his body to the wall
And the breathing it left his face
But for every lad who perishes so
Another will take his place
Of heroes Ireland has more than her share
They are known throughout all of the lands
And in heaven now, Mac Swiney takes the hand
Of our brave young Bobby Sands.
Contributed by Alessandro - 2010/1/14 - 13:07
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