Call me what you will and tell me what they say,
For tomorrow brings a new wind and the rain has gone away.
For within these walls I see the sun as it shines oer the hill
Down into the valley and amongst the daffodils.
But when this war is over and I see your face again,
Then Ill tell you of the warriors who put death before revenge.
Now here we starve in prison to support our fellow men,
Weve only a woollen blanket and a crucifix in our hand.
Yet the screws harass and give them hell but their spirits they cannot break,
Hold your chins up lads keep marching, we dont think shell leave it too late.
Bobby was the first to die, with Francis close behind.
People streamed onto the streets to have faith was not a crime,
And faith is what those men had when they chose to join our fight,
Their actions were political cant those British see were right?
The days rolled by and two more died OHara and McCreesh,
Yet Thatcher chose to bite her lip, the toll was not to cease.
Still the barricades went up by day and the bullets hummed by night,
How much longer will they keep this path there is still no end in sight.
Its a terrible thing that those men joined our ranks of martyred brave,
Thats ten too many coffin nails and ten too many graves.
But if theyd only realised then Thatcherll mark us well,
They are ten more determined reasons for to brak out of this hell.