Michael Collins

Come listen all me true men to my simple rhyme
 For it tells of a young man cut off in his prime
 A soldier and a statesman who laid down the law, and,
 To die by the roaside in lone Beal na Bla
 When barely sixteen to England crossed o'er
 For to work as a boy in a government store
 But the Volunteers call he could not disobey
 So he came back to Dublin to join in the fray
 -Chorus-
 At Easter nineteen sixteen when Pearse called them out
 The men from the Dublin battalion roved out
 And in the pos toffice they nobley did show
 How a handful of heros could outfight the foe.
 To Stafford and jails transported they were
 As prisonners of England they soon made a stir
 Released before Christmas and home once again
 He banded old comrades together to train
 Dail Eireann assembled our rights to proclaim
 Suppressed by the English you'd think it's a shame
 How Ireland's best and bravest were harried and torn
 From the Arms of their loved ones and children new born.
 For years Mick eluded their soldiers and spies
 For he was the master of clever disguise
 With the Custom House blazing she found t'was no use
 And soon Mother England had asked for a truce
 Oh when will the young men a sad lesson spurn
 That brother and brother they never should turn
 Alas that a split in our ranks 'ere we saw
 Mick Collins stretched lifeless in lone Beal na Bla
 Oh long will old Ireland be seeking in vain
 Ere we find a new leader to match the man slain
 A true son of Grainne his name long will shine
 O gallant Mick Collins cut off in his prime.