Among the hills of green Tyrone an Irish soldier lies,
The youthful Martin Hurson who for Ireland gave his live,
To uphold his country's dignity he followed Bobby Sands,
On a hunger-strike for human rights till death he took his stand.
Through dreary days in that H-block cage my thoughts return to
Though beaten low by a savage foe your memory saw me through,
Through tortured nights your prayers brought light and soothed
my fears and pain,
And though I'm gone you must fight on till Ireland is free again.
Now gaunt and pale in my H-Block cell my heart still burns the
In my fondest dreams I drilled it seems among your hills again,
A guiding light to lead the fight to free my green Tyrone,
The voice of truth for Irish youth to rid of the British throne.
Farewell my native green Tyrone, I now sleep there in death,
My parents and companions brave are watching over you yet,
Of Cappues Braes my childhood days in memories I recall,
And so adieu to the land I love true, a hardiest Slang bna fhoill.