Broad Black Brimmer

There's a uniform that's hanging in what's known as fathers room A uniform so simple in it's style It's got no braid of gold, nor silk, nor hat with feathered plume Yet me mother has preserved it all the while One day she made me try it on, a wish of mine for years This in memory of your father Sean she said And when I put the sam brown on, she was smiling through her tears As she placed the broad black brimmer on my head It's just a broad black brimmer with ribbons frayed and torn By the careless whisk of manys about a breeze An old trench coat that's so battle-stained and worn And breeches almost threadbare at the knees A sam brown belt with a buckle big and strong And a holster that's been empty manys a day (but not for Long) But when men claim Ireland's Freedom The one should choose to lead them Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA It was the uniform be worn by my father long ago When he reached me mother's homestead on the run It was the uniform be worn in that little church below When 'oul father mac, he blessed the pair as one And after truce and treaty and the parting of the ways He wore it when he marched out with the rest (and the best) And when they bore his body down on that rugged heather braes They placed the broad black brimmer on his chest It's just a broad black brimmer with ribbons frayed and torn Made the careless whisk of manys a mountain breeze An old trench coat that's so battle-stained and worn And breeches almost threadbare at the knees A sam brown belt with a buckle big and strong And a holster that's been empty manys a day (but not for Long) But when men claim Ireland's Freedom The one should choose to lead them Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA