There'sa uniform still hanging in what'sknown as fathersroom
A uniform so simple in it'sstyle
It has no fancy braid of gold, nohat with feathered plume
Yetme mother haspreserved it all thewhile
Oneday she made me try it on, awish of mine for years
In memory of your father Sean shesaid
Andwhen i put the sam brown on, she wassmiling through hertears
As she placed the broad blackbrimmeron my head
It'sjust a broadblack brimmer withribbons frayed andtorn
From thecareless whisk of many a mountain breeze
Anold trenchcoat that's sobattle-stained and worn
And breeches almostthreadbareat theknees
A sam brown belt with abuckle big and strong
And a holster that's been empty manys aday
Butwhen men claim Ireland'sFreedom
The one should choose to lead them,
Will wear the broad black brimmer of theIRA
It was the uniform worn by my father years ago
When he reached me mother's homestead on the run
It was the uniform he wore in that little church below
When 'oul father mac, he blessed the pair as one
And after the truce and treaty and the parting of the ways
He wore it when he marched out with the rest
And when they bore his body down on that rugged heather braes
They placed the broad black brimmer on his chest