Come all you young rebels, and list while we sing
For the love of one's country is a terrible thing
It banishes fear with the speed of a flame
And it makes us all part of the patriot game

My name is O'Hanlon, and I'm just gone sixteen
My home is in Monaghan, and where I was weaned
I've learned all my life, cruel England's to blame
And so I'm a part of the patriot game

This Ireland of ours has for long been half free
Six counties lie under John Bull's tyranny
So we gave up our boyhood to drill and to train
To play our own part in the patriot game

It's barely two years since they wandered away
and it was with the local battalion of the bold IRA
For they'd read of our heroes, and they wanted the same
To play their own part in the patriot game

And now as I lie here, my body all holes
I think of those traitors who bargained in souls
I wish that my rifle had given the same
To those Quislings who sold out the patriot game

Copyright: T.R.O. INC.
Writer(s): Dominic Behan