The Boys of Barr Na Sraide

Oh the town it climbs the mountain and looks out upon the sea At sleeping time or waking, 'tis there I long to be To walk again that kindly street that place where life began And the boys of Barr na Sraide went hunting for the wren With cudgels stout we 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 or plan And we, boys of Barr na Sraide, 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 who beat the Black-and-Tan Were the boys of Barr na Sraide 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 slopes of Bean 'a Tí John Daly and Batt Andy and the Sheehans, Conn and Dan Were the boys of Barr na Sraide who hunted for the wren And now they toil on foreign soil where they have gone their way Deep in the heart of London town or over in Broadway And I am left to sing their deed and praise them while I can Those boys of Barr na Sraide 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 the boys of Barr na Sraide went hunting for the wren