Come all you 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 makes us all part of
The Patriot Game

Mu name is O'Hanlon
And I've just gone sixteen
My home is Monaghan
And there I was weened
I was taught all my life
Cruel England to blame
And so I'm a part of
The Patriot Game

'Tis barely two years
SinceI wandered away
With the local battalion
Of the bold I.R.A.
I've read of our heroes
And wanted the same
To play out my part in
The Patriot Game

They told me how Connolly
Was shot in the chair
His wounds from the battle
All bleeding and bare,
His fine body twisted
All battered and lame,
They soon made him part of
The Patriot Game.

This Ireland of mine
Has for long been half free,
Six counties are under
John Bull's tyranny.
And still deValera
Is greatly to blame,
For shirking his part in
The Patriot Game.

I don't mind a bit if
I shoot down the police,
They're lackies for war
Never guardians of peace.
But yet at deserters
I'm never let aim
Those rebels who sold out
The Patriot Game.

And now as I lie with
My body all holes,
I think of those traitors
Who bargained and sold.
I'm sorry my rifle
Has not done the same,
For those quisslings who sold out
The Patriot Game.

New Content Copyright © 1998 PBS and WGBH/Frontline

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