The Breeze

The Breeze Behind rock walls in a field of crows they made their stand for Ireland and when the rifles made their sound black wings sent a message clear Add now to famine and Coffin ships More blood on the hands of England Claire Merry’s boys in the mud did die And their spirit filled the breeze Oh mother dear You were made for tears Shed freely for all Ireland We lay these boys in this tender soil Their beds forever made While the greenest greens spread far and wide Away from these grim holes in the ground And even now their voices raise In a silent cry on the breeze O death is not their ending The message is so clear Push through it to a clarion call to this country we hold so dear Remember them, my brave ladeens Remember a mother’s crying And if thee raise a flock of crows Pray a murder’s only flying And someday sweet the smoke will clear And England will be banished From Ireland’s Green and pleasant lands Where we’ll sing freely on the breeze