FOR WHAT DIED THE SONS OF ROISÍN

For what died the sons of Roisín, was it fame?

For what died the sons of Roisín, was it fame?

For what flowed Ireland’s blood in rivers that began when Brian chased the Dane?

And did not cease, nor has not ceased, as the brave sons of ’16.

For what died the sons of Roisín, was it fame?

For what died the sons of Roisín, was it greed?

For what died the sons of Roisín, was it greed?

Was it greed that drove Wolf Tone to a martyr’s death in a cell of cold wet stone?

In German, French or Dutch inscribed the epitaph of Emmet.

When we’ve sold enough of Ireland, to be but strangers in it.

For what died the sons of Roisín, was it greed?

To whom do we owe our allegiance today?

To whom do we owe our allegiance today?

To those brave men who fought and died, that Roisín live again with pride

Her sons at home to work and sing, her youth to dance and make her valleys ring.

Or faceless men, for Mark and Dollar, betrayer to the highest bidder

To whom do we owe our allegiance today?

For what suffer our patriots today?

For what suffer our patriots today?

They have a language problem, so they say.

How to write ‘No Trespass’ must grieve their heart full sore.

We got rid of one strange language, now we are faced with many, many more.

For what suffer our patriots today?

Luke Kelly, The Dubliners.

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