Patriot Game

Come all ye 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 it makes us all part of the patriot game.
 My name is O'Hanlon, and I've just turned sixteen.
 My home is in Monaghan, and where I was weaned
 I learned all my life cruel England's to blame,
 So now I am part of the patriot game.
 This Ireland of ours has too long been half free.
 Six counties lie under John Bull's tyranny.
 But still De Valera is greatly to blame
 For shirking his part in the Patriot game.
 They told me how Connolly was shot in his chair,
 His wounds from the fighting all bloody and bare.
 His fine body twisted, all battered and lame
 They soon made me part of the patriot game.
 It's nearly two years since I wandered away
 With the local battalion of the bold IRA,
 For I read of our heroes, and wanted the same
 To play out my part in the patriot game.
 I don't mind a bit if I shoot down police
 They are lackeys for war never guardians of peace
 And yet at deserters I'm never let aim
 The rebels who sold out the patriot game
 And now as I lie here, my body all holes
 I think of those traitors who bargained in souls
 And I wish that my rifle had given the same
 To those Quislings who sold out the patriot game.