May God reward those gallant men may heaven be their home
'Twas in Brookeborough town where they
Got shot down in a cabin they lay cold
Well they never feared the RUC nor B-men on patrol
O'Hanlon from the border Sean South from Garryowen
It was on a dreary New Year's Eve as the shades of night came down
A lorry load of volunteers approached a border town
There were men from Dublin and from Cork, Fermanagh, and Tyrone
But the leader was a Limerick man Sean South from Garryowen
And as they marched up along the street up through the barrack door
They scorned the dangers they would meet, the fate that lay in store
They were fighting for old Ireland's cause to claim her very own
And the foremost of that gallant band was South from Garryowen
But the sergeant foiled their
Daring plan he spied them through the door
Then the Sten guns and the rifles a hail of death did pour
And when that awful night was passed two men were cold as stone
There was one from near the border and one from Garryowen
No more he will hear the seagull's
Cry o'er the Shannon's murmuring tide
For he fell beneath a northern sky brave Hanlon by his side
He has gone to join that gallant band of Plunkett, Pearse, and Tone
A martyr for old Ireland Sean South from Garryowen