The[D] night was dark and the[G] fight was[D] over,
The[D] moon shone[G] down O'Connell[D] Street,
I[G] stood alo[D]ne,where[G] brave men[D] perished,
Thoes[D] men have[A] gone,their[G] God to[D] meet.
My only son was shot in Dublin,
Fighting for his country bold,
He fought for Ireland,and Ireland only,
The harp the shamrock,green white and gold,
The first I met was a grey haird father,
Searching for his only son,
I said old man,sure it's no use searching,
For up to heaven,your son has gone.
The old man cried out broken hearted,
Bending low I heard him say,
I knew my son was too kind hearted,
I knew my son would never yield.
The last I met was a dying rebel,
Kneeling or I heard him say,
God bless my home,in dear Cork City,
God bless the cause for which I die.