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The Patriot Game
Dominic Behan
Text File
The Patriot Game by Dominic Behan
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dominic_Behan
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Come all ye young rebels, and list while I sing,
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For the love of one's country is a terrible thing.
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It banishes fear with the speed of a flame
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And it makes us all part of the patriot game.
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My name is O'Hanlon, and I've just turned sixteen.
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My home is in Monaghan, where I was weaned.
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I learned all my life cruel England to blame,
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So now I am part of the patriot game.
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This Ireland of ours has too long been half free;
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Six counties lie under John Bull's tyranny.
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But still De Valera is greatly to blame
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For shirking his part in the patriot game.
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They told me how Connolly was shot in his chair,
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His wounds from the fighting all bloody and bare.
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His fine body twisted, all battered and lame;
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They soon made me part of the patriot game.
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I don't mind a bit if I shoot down police
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They are lackeys for war, never guardians of peace
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And yet at deserters I'm never let aim
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The rebels who sold out the patriot game.
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It's nearly two years since I wandered away
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With the local battalion of the bold IRA,
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I've read of our heroes, and I wanted the same,
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To play out my part in the patriot game.
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And now as I lie here, my body all holes,
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I think of those traitors who bargained in souls
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And I wish that my rifle had given the same
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To those quislings who sold out the patriot game.
(this is my first UG submission so please rate and comment if made a mistake. thanks)