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Oh father why are you so sad on this bright Easter morn'
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When Irish men are proud and glad of the land where they were born?
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Oh, son, I see in memories view of far-off distant days
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When being just a lad like you I joined the IRA.
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Where are the lads who stood with me when history was made?
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O Ghrá Mo Chroí, I long to see the boys of the old brigade.
