If you come from Belfast Town, Derry City, County Down
The Calton, Tullygally, or from Bray
You can come along and see 'Bhoys against Bhigotry'
But don't you sing 'Boys of the Old Brigade'
Fergus has said no, those tunes will have to go
These Rebel songs no longer can be played
So we've made our self's a pact, to polish up our act
So don't you sing 'Boys of the Old Brigade'
You can sing of big Jock Brown, against the Famine and the Crown
'The Fields of Athenry' just makes the grade
You can sing 'Glen Daly's' tone and 'You'll Never Walk Alone'
But don't you sing 'Boys of the Old Brigade'
The campaign's under way, Pete McLean has had a say
A loyalist through and through it has been said
He has made a lot of cash, as he hides his Orange Sash
And he doesn't know 'Boys of the Old Brigade'
So it's no more 'Crossmaglen', 'Up the Ra', or 'Fenian Men'
'Sean South of Garryowen' must not be played
'The Broad Black Brimmer' has to go, 'Take it Down' and 'Say Hello'
And don't you sing 'Boys of the Old Brigade'
So children, Mums and Dads, do not sing 'Where are the Lads'
Who stood with me when history was made
And don't sing old 'Gradh Mo Croidhe' and how you long to see
To see the 'Boys of the Old Brigade'
Oh, father why are you so sad
On this bright Easter morn'
When Irish men are proud and glad
Of the land where they were born?
Oh, son, I see in mem'ry's view
A far off distant day
When being just a lad like you
I joined the IRA.
Where are the lads that stood with me
When history was made?
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
The boys of the old brigade.
From hills and farms a call to arms
Was heard by one and all.
And from the glen came brave young men
To answer Ireland's call.
T'was long ago we faced the foe,
The old brigade and me,
And by my side they fought and died
That Ireland might be free.
Where are the lads that stood with me
When history was made?
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
The boys of the old brigade.
And now, my boy, I've told you why
On Easter morn' I sigh,
For I recall my comrades all
And dark old days gone by.
I think of men who fought in glen
With rifle and grenade.
May heaven keep the men who sleep
From the ranks of the old brigade.
Where are the lads that stood with me
When history was made?
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
The boys of the old brigade.