When my days were filled with brightness and my mind was filled with dreams
Of the wondrous things that lay ahead and all my boyhood schemes,
I thought of dear old Ireland and the sorrow she had seen,
And I think of sad misfortunes, and how things might have been.
But remember one thing, Irish men, all gallant bold and true:
This little place called Ireland belongs to me and you.
The sorrow that I speak of is the history you all know:
Of our hero's dreams that had been crushed by the rifles of our foes.
Our brave young men had died there, as they fought with heart and hand.
Oh, dear God! They went with hearts so brave, as for liberty did stand.
But remember one thing, Irish men, all gallant bold and true:
This little place called Ireland belongs to me and you.
Oh, I think of how our land would be if our troubles were all gone,
When our loved ones could all rest with ease and not fear light of dawn,
When our children they could sing and play from early morning light,
And not have guns and uniforms an ever-present sight.
But remember one thing, Irish men, all gallant bold and true:
This little place called Ireland belongs to me and you.
But remember one thing, Irish men, all gallant bold and true:
This little place called Ireland belongs to me and you.
Of the wondrous things that lay ahead and all my boyhood schemes,
I thought of dear old Ireland and the sorrow she had seen,
And I think of sad misfortunes, and how things might have been.
But remember one thing, Irish men, all gallant bold and true:
This little place called Ireland belongs to me and you.
The sorrow that I speak of is the history you all know:
Of our hero's dreams that had been crushed by the rifles of our foes.
Our brave young men had died there, as they fought with heart and hand.
Oh, dear God! They went with hearts so brave, as for liberty did stand.
But remember one thing, Irish men, all gallant bold and true:
This little place called Ireland belongs to me and you.
Oh, I think of how our land would be if our troubles were all gone,
When our loved ones could all rest with ease and not fear light of dawn,
When our children they could sing and play from early morning light,
And not have guns and uniforms an ever-present sight.
But remember one thing, Irish men, all gallant bold and true:
This little place called Ireland belongs to me and you.
But remember one thing, Irish men, all gallant bold and true:
This little place called Ireland belongs to me and you.
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