Dunlavin Green

In the year of one thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight
 A sorrowful tale, the truth unto you I'll relate
 Thirty-six heroes to the world they were left to be seen
 By a false information were shot on Dunlavin Green
 Bad luck to you, Saunders, for you did their lives betray
 You said a parade would be held on that very same day
 Our drums, they did rattle, our fifes, they did sweetly play
 Surrounded we were and privately marched away
 Quite easy they led us like prisoners through the town
 To be shot on the plain, we first were forced to kneel down
 Such grief and such sorrow were never before there seen
 When the blood ran in the streams down the dykes of Dunlavin Green
 There is young Matty Farrell who has plenty of cause to complain
 Likewise the two Duffys who were shot down upon the plain
 Young Andy Ryan, his mother distracted will run
 For the loss of her darling, her only beloved son
 Some of our boys to the hills, they are going away
 Some of them shot and more of them going to sea
 Michael Dwyer in the mountains to Saunders, he owes a spleen
 For loss of his brothers who were shot on Dunlavin Green
 Bad luck to you, Saunders, bad luck may you never shun
 May the widow's curse melt you like snow in the noonday sun
 Cries of the orphans, their murmurs you cannot screen
 For the loss of their fathers who were shot on Dunlavin Green
 In the year of one thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight
 A sorrowful tale, the truth unto you I'll relate
 Thirty-six heroes to the world they were left to be seen
 By a false information were shot on Dunlavin Green
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