The Boys Of Barr Na Sraide

Oh the town it climbs the mountain and looks out upon the sea
 At sleeping time or waking, 'tis there I long to be
 To walk again that kindly street that place where life began
 And the boys of Barr na Sraide went hunting for the wren
 With cudgels stout we roamed about to hunt the dreólín
 We searched for birds in every furze from Litir to Dooneen
 We sang for joy beneath the sky, life held no print or plan
 And we, boys of Barr na Sraide, went hunting for the wren
 And when the hills were bleeding and the rifles were aflame
 To the rebel homes of Kerry the Saxon stranger came
 But the men who dared the Auxies and who beat the Black-and-Tan
 Were the boys of Barr na Sraide who hunted for the wren
 And here's a toast to them tonight the lads who laughed with me
 By the groves of Carham River or the slopes of Bean 'a Tí
 John Daly and Batt Andy and the Sheehans, Conn and Dan
 Were the boys of Barr na Sraide who hunted for the wren
 And now they toil on foreign soil where they have gone their way
 Deep in the heart of London town or over in Broadway
 And I am left to sing their deed and praise them while I can
 Those boys of Barr na Sraide who hunted for the wren
 And when the wheel of life runs down and peace comes over me
 Oh lay me down in that old town between the hills and sea
 I'll take my sleep in those green fields the place my life began
 Where the boys of Barr na Sraide went hunting for the wren