Civil War Song Lyrics. These ones are from Galway and tell the story of Frank Cunnane, Sean Maguire,
Sean Newell, Michael Monaghan, Martin Moylan and Seamus O'Maille who were executed by The Irish Free State soldiers on April
11 1923 in The Workhouse in Tuam Co. Galway during The Irish Civil War.
Maura O'Kelly From Galway- Written By Theresa Brayton
'Twas Maura O'Kelly from Galway walked down the hill with me,
High was her head for her two sons dead and buried at
And I said old woman from Galway it breaks my heart to see,
That a Saxon foot still tramples, the root of
Says Maura O'Kelly of Galway and her eyes were flaming fire
No Saxon foot shall trample the root, of the tree
of my sons desire.
For where they were shooting Galway, and buried at Killalee,
A thousand more are still to the fore
of Irish liberty.
And what care I for the shoneens, and what care I have for slaves,
And what care I have for Britain's tools, who
have filled two soilders graves.
And what care I have for London peace, that a Connaught gun can share.
There will be
no peace in Ireland while a Union Jack flies there.
Did treaties ever make freedom, or lies from treacherous lips ?
The lash that falls on a shoulder may scourge
a soul to stripes.
There is only the vengeful rifle to burn old scores away.
And I'd rather be dead with my two brave
sons, than a willing slave today.
I said old woman from Galway, the toll of death is long,
She said they died with their hands in pride, and in
their hearts a song,
And the lads I duried at Killalee, with blood on their hands and face,
Are a pledge between their
God and me, that he will redeem their race.
The Barrack Square In Tuam
The morning son shone slowle out,
And heave was
As a band of men condemmed to death,
Had knelt in silent prayer.
They heeded not the martial tread,
well they knew that soon,
They would have to face the firing squad,
At the barrack square in Tuam.
Their only crime they loved too well
The land for which they died
And Seagan Buidhe flag the union rag,
never could abide
'Twas Ireland from sea to sea,
They staled their lives to win
A country free without Travail
nation once again.
Surrounded by their countrymen
As in blissful sleep they lay,
And then marched off to Galway Jail
the break of day
Conveyed to Tuam to meet their doom
Sad story to relate
The hangman's rope the firing squad,
still the patriots fate.
No more to join the merry throng
To mass at early morn,
No more to hear the Curley's cry.
Above the tempest
Nor the plaintive call of plover
By the Corrib's sparkling shore.
While the Union Jack flies o'er the North
No peace we will ever know
For discounted for ever will
of discord sow,
And men as brave will rise again
And take what is our own.
The land that gave us fighting men
Russell and Wolfe Tone
The Workhouse Tuam
Outside those gloomy walls,
The Famine victims
died in fever and in pain
The golden grain that spring from Irish soil
Was not for them for they were slaves
by their masters doomed to perish so,
In anguish and woe,
No for their souls to pray
Rest and refreshed, light and
Upon this April day.
Within these walls, so grim a spot is marked
And from his cross the pitying Christ looks down
Where six men
stood to gain the patroits crown
Eager and young were they,
One had just eighteen summers past
Holding their dreams
until the last
Until the volley rang, and in their blood lay.
Bravely they died in manhood's pride
Upon that April
Oh, lay the flowers of Spring upon that hallowed spot
Flowere for their dream and for their young lives given.
to the captain Christ,
Who died on Calvary's hill,
That he receive their souls today in Heaven.
Now, not in anger
or revenge do we look back,
But like into the crucified we humbly pray,
''Father, forgive,'' for they know not what
Who doomed upon six to die,
Upon an April day.