As I was walkin’ down the road I passed the Spire and Liffey O’.
A recurrin’ thought returned to me “are Irish men still brave and bold?”.
Been a hundred years since that fair war our grandads dead weren’t even born,
Ah we love to speak of Rebel Charm but we don’t know the meaning O’.
I came upon the GPO and I passed the sickenin’ placards O’,
Someone recited holy words but all I heard was dogma O’.
And Savita put in the ground the streets were filled with angry crowds
But aren’t we all so modern now we pick and choose our morals O’.
I took the road down Henry St. and the christmas lights were beamin’ O’,
And Enda on a plasma screen with sophistry so softly O’.
He’ll take your fears and roll them up and put them in a porcelain cup.
He’s voted in but all tied up,
Waitin’ on the money O’.
And I made me way toward Capel St and I spotted Irish Water vans,
And Garda in their high-vis vests and protesters at twenty yards.
And Bruton kidnapped in her car,
The more you speak the more you’re tarred.
They hate to see the people charged, unless it’s by the litre O’.
O in any year since I could vote there’s never been an option O’,
Sycophants, whips and class always on the ballet O’.
But a century on I had an aul dream,
That we all woke up and removed the regime and
No one got shot and power got cleaned.
People before profit O’.