The Boys Of The Old Brigade

Oh Father why are you so sad?
 On this bright Easter morn.
 When Irishmen are proud and glad of the day when they were born.
 Oh son, I see in memory view of far off distant days.
 For being just a lad like you, I joined the IRA.
 Where are the lads that stood with me, when history was made?
 A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see,
 The boys of the old brigade.
 From hills and farms, the call to arms, was made by one and all.
 And from the glen came brave young men, to answer Ireland's call.
 Was long ago, we faced the foe: the old brigade and me.
 And by my side they fought and they died that Ireland might be free.
 Where are the lads that stood with me, when history was made?
 A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see,
 The boys of the old brigade.
 And so, my boy, I've told you why
 On Easter morn' I sigh.
 And I recall my comrades all
 and dark old days gone by.
 I think of men who fought in glen
 with rifle and grenade.
 May heaven keep the men who sleep
 on the ranks of the old brigade.
 Where are the lads that stood with me, when history was made?
 A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see,
 The boys of the old brigade.