It hung above the kitchen fire its barrel long and brown
And one day with a boy's desire I climbed and took it down
My father's eyes with anger flashed he cried, 'What have you done'
I wish you'd left it where it was, that's my old Fenian gun
I fondled it with love and pride and look it o'er and o'er
I placed it on my shoulder and I marched across the floor
My father's anger softened and he shared my boyish fun
Ah well he said 'tis in your breed to hold that Fenian gun
I remember sixty-seven well when lads like you and me
All thought we'd strike another blow to set old Ireland free
But broken were our golden hopes I was long months on the run
But it did good work for Ireland then that brown old Fenian gun
I was down then in Kilmallock 'twas the hottest fight of all
And you see he burned his arm there's the mark still of the ball
I hope the young lads growing now will hold the ground we won
And not disgrace the cause in which I held that Fenian gun
I placed it on my shoulder and I heard my father sigh
I knew his thoughts were turning back to days now long gone by
And then I vowed within my heart I'd be my father's son
And if Ireland ever wants my aid I'd hold a Fenian gun
That's years ago I've grown a man and I weathered many a gale
The last long year I've spent inside a gloomy English jail
I've done my part I'll do it still until the fight is won
When Ireland's free she'll bless the men who held a Fenian gun