1. I am a merry ploughboy and I plough the fields by dayI'll be back on the 30th.
Till a sudden thought came to my mind that I should roam away
For I am sick of this civilian life since the day that I was born
So I am off to join the I.R.A. and I am off tomorrow morn.
And we're all off to Dublin in the green,
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bay'nets flash and the rifles crash
To the rattle of a Thompson gun.
2. I'll leave behind me pick and me spade, I'll leave behind my plough
I'll leave behind me horse and me yoke, no more will I need them now
And I'll leave behind my Mary, she's the girl that I adore
But I wonder if she'll think of me when hears my armalite roar.
3. And when this war is over, and dear old Ireland is free
I'll take her to the chapel on the hill and a rebel's wife she'll be
Well some men fight for silver and some men fight for gold
But the I.R.A. are fighting for the land that the Saxons stole [alt. the land De Valera sold]
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