In nineteen hundred and sixteen, the forces of the crown,
Did take the orange, white, and green, bombarded Dublin town,
But in twenty one, Britannia's sons were forced to earn their pay,
And the Black and Tans like lightning ran from
The rifles of the IRA.

They burned their way through Munster and laid Leinster on the rack,
In Connaught and in Ulster marched the men of brown and black,
They shot down wives and children in their own heroic way,
And the Black and Tans like lightning ran from
The rifles of the IRA.

They hanged young Kevin Barry high, a lad of eighteen years,
Cork City's flames lit up the sky but our brave boys knew no fear.
The Cork brigade with hand grenades in ambush waiting lay,
And the Black and Tans like lightning ran from
The rifles of the IRA.

The Tans were caught, taken out and shot by the brave and valiant few,
Sean Treacy, Denny Lacey, and Tom Barry's gallant crew,
Though we're not free yet, we won't forget until our dying day,
How the Black and Tans like lightning ran from
The rifles of the IRA.