Oh the town, it climbs the mountain and looks upon the sea At sleeping time or waking, 'tis there I'd long to be To walk again that kindly street, the place where life began And the Boys of Barr na Sráide went hunting for the wren With cudgels stout they roamed about to hunt the dreólín We searched for birds in every furze from Litir to Dooneen We sang for joy beneath the sky, life held no print nor plan And the Boys of Barr na Sráide went hunting for the wren And when the hills were bleeding and the rifles were aflame To the rebel homes of Kerry the Saxon stranger came But the men who dared the Auxies and to beat the Black-and-Tan The Boys of Barr na Sráide who hunted for the wren And here's a toast to them tonight, the lads who laughed with me By the groves of Carham river or the slope of Bean 'a Tí John Daly and Batt Andy and the Sheehans, Con and Dan And the Boys of Barr na Sráide who hunted for the wren And now they toil on foreign soil, for they have gone their way Deep in the heart of London town or over in Broadway And I am left to sing their deeds and praise them while I can Those Boys of Barr na Sráide who hunted for the wren And when the wheel of life runs down and peace comes over me Oh lay me down in that old town between the hills and sea I'll take my sleep in those green fields, the place my life began Where those Boys of Barr na Sráide went hunting for the wren