A Chuisle Mo Chroí

Breathe in the air of the Autumn skies
As we gather near mount street bridge
I see the flames burn in martyrs eyes
With such passion and pure desire
We will rise from the Foggy Dew and we
Will fight until the morning dies
Place us among the nations so we can die
Beneath an Irish sky
No welcome for this call to arms
We are the legion of the excluded
Passive masses must play their part
Revitalise the pulse of my heart
A Chuisle Mo Chroí
Our fight will surely set us free
Without you, without cause, I would not stay
Our fighting spirit is on it’s way, on it’s way
I see his blood etched upon the rose
As his tears fall down from the skies
The burden of protest that we all know
Has been lifted from Irish graves
Generations scream their names
The usurpers tribute grows
Into something tangible
To realise a country whole again