In a dimly lit room by the smouldering fire Sat an old man so lonely so sad and so tired Once he struggled for freedom,
now he struggles to live With his few small possessions and his past to relive
Thereīs a faded old picture on the
wall all alone A dusty old picture, the pride of his home With a harp and a shamrock with these words underneath "Ireland
unfree shall never be at peace"
And his thoughts wander back to the days of his prime Oh it seems now thereīs nothing
goes faster than time To his comrades of old he remembers the day When he marched behind Pearse and the bold IRA
And
itīs to Easter week and his thoughts wander back Oh those leaders of men sure no courage did lack But now heīs just
left with his memories of old For his name nor his story will never be told
He gazed at that picture and gave a
sad smile For each wrinkle and line told the struggle of time Then he gazed once again and his eyes filled with tears For
the man in that picture was his friend Padraic Pearse