The Boys of the Old Brigade

(D) Oh father, why are (G) you so sad,
on (D) this bright Easter (A) morn?
When (D) Irishmen are (G) proud and glad
Of the (D) land where (A) they were (D) born.
Oh, (A) son, I see in memories view
Of (D) far off (G) distant (A) days,
When, (D) being just a (G) lad like you,
I (D) joined the (A) I.R. (D) A.
(A) Where are the lads who stood with me
When (D) histo (G) ry was (A) made?
Oh, (D) grádh mo chroí, I (G) long to see
The (D) Boys of the (A) Old Bri (D) gade.

In hills and farms the call to arms
Was heard by one and all,
And from the glens came brave young men
To answer Ireland's call.
'Twas long ago we faced the foe,
The old brigade and me,
But by my side they fought and they died
That Ireland might be free.
And now, my son, I've told you why
On Easter morn I sigh
As I recall my comrades all
From dark old days gone by,
I think of men who fought in glen
With rifles and grenade
May Heaven keep the lads who sleep
From the ranks of the old brigade.