That Ireland that he dreamed of
For which so many died
Was to be the nightmare we now think of
From which so many died.
The comely maidens behind the walls
Their babies to the highest bidders for sale
These are the ones not they didn’t speak of
Whose children to homes across the Atlantic set sail.
Those children left? Starved in a land of plenty
To be buried in a septic tank
All the children treated equal bar those he didn’t think of
Whose act of rebellion we have our freedom as it is to thank.