OHanlon McMahon Lynagh Cumann Monaghan

by ede - Ógra Shinnféin Sat Mar 04, 2006 13:17 eiresaoirse32 at yahoo dot com Monaghan 5656546

THE PATRIOT GAME
Come all you Young Rebels And List' While I Sing
For the Love of one's Country is a terrible thing.
It banishes fear With the speed of a flame And
Makes us All Part Of the Patriot Game.

My Name Is O Hanlon And I'Ve Just gone 16
My Home is In Monaghan And Where I Was Weened.
I Was Taught All my Life Cruel England to blame.
And now I'm a part of the Patriot Game.
They Told Me How Connolly was shot in the Chair
His Wounds from the battle all bleeding and bare,
His Fine Body Twisted allbattered and Lame,
They Soon Make Him Part of The Patriot Game.

This Island Of Mine Has for Long Been Half Free,
6 counties are under John Bull's tyranny.
And still deVlaera Is greatly to Blame, For
Shirking his part in the Patriot Game.

I Dont Mind a bit ifI Shoot down the police,
They're Lackies for war Never Guardians of Peace.
But Yet at Deserters I'm never Let aim Those
Rebels who Sold Out The Patriot Game.

And Now As I Lie Here with My Body All Holes,
I Think of those Traitors who bargained and sold.
I'm Sorry my Rifle Has Not Done the same,
For those quislings who sold out the Patriot Game

Fergal Ohanlon Monument Monaghan

by ede - Ógra Shinnféin Sat Mar 04, 2006 13:29 eiresaoirse32 at yahoo dot com Monaghan 566767

Oh Hark to the tale of young Fergal o Hanlon who died in Brookeborough to make Ireland Free for his heart he had pledged to the cause of his country and he took to the hills like a bold rapparee.
And he feared not to walk to the walls of the Barracks a volley of death poured from the window and door Alas for youg fergal, his life's blood for freedom on Brookeborough's pavements profusely did pour.
When the Smoke and the din of the battle where overand fergal was bourne by his comrades awayHe asked them to flyfrom that place and take cover but he died in the hands of the foe on that day.
God Strike from your hands, all you hirelings and traitors The wepons that murdered our brave volunteer,
God Grant to us Freedom the Dream of OHanlon,
And Take From our Valleys, All Sorrow and fear.

Saoirse