Irish Songs Lyrics With Guitar Chords By Martin Dardis

Civil War Songs

Lyrics + Chords A-B
C - F
G - J
K - M
N - R
S - T
U - Z
The Tin Whistle Song Book With Letter Notes
Sheet Music And Tin Whistle
Tin Whistle Music 2
Learning Tin Whistle
Children's Songs On Tin Whistle
Pop Songs For The Tin Whistle
Christmas Carols For The Tin Whistle
Traditional Whistle Sheet Music
The Dubliners
Christy Moore
Wolfe Tones
Fureys Brothers
Clancy Brothers And Tommy Makem
Most Popular Songs
Dublin City Ramblers
Johnny McEvoy
Scottish Songs
Gaeilge Songs
Foster & Allen
Irish Brigade
Country And Pop
Mary Black
Derek Ryan
Eric Bogle
Saw Doctors
Seamus Moore
Tommy Sands
Colum Sands
Football And Hurling Songs
American Folk And Patriotic Songs
German Songs
Charlie And The Bhoys
Big Tom
Nathan Carter Lyrics
Welsh Songs
Other Songs And Resources
Learn Guitar

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 Killalee.
And I said old woman from Galway it breaks my heart to see,
That a Saxon foot still tramples, the root of Irish liberty.

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 the air.
As a band of men condemmed to death,
Had knelt in silent prayer.
They heeded not the martial tread,
For 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,
They never could abide
'Twas Ireland from sea to sea,
They staled their lives to win
A country free without Travail
A nation once again.

Surrounded by their countrymen
As in blissful sleep they lay,
And then marched off to Galway Jail
Before the break of day
Conveyed to Tuam to meet their doom
Sad story to relate
The hangman's rope the firing squad,
Was 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 roar.
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
The seed of discord sow,
And men as brave will rise again
And take what is our own.
The land that gave us fighting men
Like Russell and Wolfe Tone

The Six
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
And by their masters doomed to perish so,
In anguish and woe,
No for their souls to pray
Rest and refreshed, light and hily peace
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 day.

Oh, lay the flowers of Spring upon that hallowed spot
Flowere for their dream and for their young lives given.
Pray 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 they did,
Who doomed upon six to die,
Upon an April day.


Privacy Policy        Links  Copyright  2002 - 2014 Martin Dardis