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[G]In the streets of Dublin city, Early rose the morning[D] sun
Stood a gallant band of soldiers, Each man [D7]proudly
held a [G]gun
[G]Till the last they fought them bravely, standing staunch and fighting [D]true
[D]In their midst there
stood a leader, Irelands [D7]dauntless Cathal [G]Brugha
[G]Another faithful son of Ireland, By the traitors hands shot [D]down
[D]One of Irelands best and bravest, In heaven
[D7]wears the martyrs [D]crown
[D]Till he died he fought them bravely, To the [D7]old cause he was [D]true
[D]Dashing
forth he fell in action, Irelands [D7]dauntless Cathal [G]Brugha
[G]When they battered on the four courts, With their borrowed British [D]guns
[D]Traitors in the pay of England,
Shot down [D7]Irelands faithful [G]sons
[G]when they called on them surrender, We are [D7]many your but [D]few
[D]We'll
have death before dishonour, Proudly answered Cathal [G]Brugha
Cathal Brugha you'll be remembered, In our Irish hearts with pride
For the blood you shared in Dublin, Irelands
cause you sanctified
When they laid him low in agony, 'neath an Irish sky of blue,
Tell them all I died for Ireland,
Softly murmured Cathal Brugha
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Another Song About CATHAL BRUGHA
(Air: The Tri-Coloured Ribbon)
In Dublin's fair city, the sun
it was sinking
Our I.R.A. assembled, the fight to resume.
Marshalled by the Commandant, Old Ireland's great defender
And our Easter Week survivor, the dauntless Cathal Brugha.
Chorus
May God rest the soul of our brave undaunted soldier
To his land and his comrades 'till death
he proved true.
And may God bless the brave lads who followed in his footstep
But remember, "No Surrender" were the
dying words of Brugha
The fight it was raging, the roofs they were blazing,
The cannons were pealing, every aim sad and true.
His
comrades raised the white flag, to save their brave leader,
Far more prized than their own, was the dear life of Brugha.
He cried: "Boys no white flag shall ever wave above me,
I'll make my dash for freedom and fighting I'll
go through
Then dashing through their cordons, the deadly bullets hitting him
What a vict'ry for the Free State, three
hundred shooting Brugha
Bleeding and dying lay Ireland's defender,
No earthly aid could save him for his wounds were old and new
He left this world on Friday, the same day as Our Saviour,
And to join the Irish martyrs, went the soul of Cathal
Brugha
His body lies in Dublin, in a cold and silent grave,
But forever in old Ireland, his memory shall be new.
No
foreign gold could buy him, no foe could ever change him
What a model for old Ireland was the life of Cathat Brugha.
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