Young America and Ould Ireland

It's a soldier I am, and I'm wearing the green With the boys of the army, a-fighting I've been With my knapsack and gun, wheresoever I be Sure it's Union I fight for, 'til Ireland is free Oh, then let me be living or dying It's a sigh for the old sod I'm sighing But the tyrant I'll still be defying In America's Irish Brigade In the Seven Days fight, sure I stood at my post And each pop of my gun made some rebel a ghost And whenever the word came to charge, be me soul I made in some blaggard a bayonet hole Oh bedad, it's myself they were slighting For the flag of the free I was fighting And the slaughter I made was delighting In America's Irish Brigade Oh, then let me be living or dying It's a sigh for the old sod I'm sighing But the tyrant I'll still be defying In America's Irish Brigade When old Stonewall came down like a thousand of brick It's myself and the boys drove him back double-quick For we thought of Bull Run, and our bosoms were full And we wished we were running on old Johnny Bull If the boys of old Ireland would name it Our freedom, we soon would regain it It's myself would go in with my bayonet In America's Irish Brigade So there's hope for old Ireland, when Irishmen learn How to handle a gun, or a bayonet turn And by this and by that, if we once get the chance There'll be rifles in England that don't come from France Sure, it's friends we have here when we need them Who when starving, sent bread for to feed them And they'll help us to fight for our freedom In America's Irish Brigade Oh, then let me be living or dying It's a sigh for the old sod I'm sighing But the tyrant I'll still be defying In America's Irish Brigade