O'Hara,Hughes,McCreesh And Sands

Unknown

 

Come Irish men, I pray tend and listen to these words I tell,

For I sing of they from a bygone day for the brave young lads we all knew well.

Young lads who died that Freedoms light might shine so bright across the land,

For no braver men has Ireland seen, than OHara, Hughes, McCreesh and Sands.

 

Young Irishmen in Ulster born, deprived of Freedom, Work and Hope,

Oppressed by brutal racist laws that grind men down beneath the yoke.

And when the Bloodhound comes at night to terror strike across the land,

With their tanks and guns and poor mans sons, OHara, Hughes, McCreesh and Sands

 

And in the hell of an H-Block cell, where tyrants try to break mens wills,

And boots and bars leave life-long scars, those brave mens spirits neer did yield.

The words of Christ then came to mind, whod give up his life for his fellow man?

And the volunteers without dread or fear were OHara, Hughes, McCreesh and Sands.

 

For three-score days those men they lay under Margaret Thatchers Tyranny,

And British churchmen came to say that no clergyman theirs souls could free,

But far and wide with tears and pride their story was told in distant lands,

So your voices raise we will sing in praise of OHara, Hughes, McCreesh and Sands.

 

Now brave men die and sick men lie and weak men turn their heads away,

But short is the hour of those in power who truth and the rights of man betray.

But the fight will go on and well not ne done while man is unfree in this fair land,

And in Freedoms day we will sing in praise of OHara, Hughes, McCreesh and Sands.