Sean South from Garryowen.

Twas on a dreary New Year's eve as the shades of night came down,
A lorry load of volunteers approached a border town,
There were men from Dublin and from Cork,
Fermanagh and Tyrone
But the leader was a Limerick man,
Sean South from Garryowen.

And as they moved along the street up to the barracks door,
they scorned the dangers they would meet, the fate that lay in store,
They were fighting for old Ireland's cause to claim their very OWN,
And the foremost of that gallant band was South of Garryowen.

But the sergeant foiled their daring plan,
he spied them through the door,
Then the sten guns and the rifles, a hail of death did pour,
And when that awful night was past, two men lay cold as stone
One was from near the border town and one from Garryowen.

No more he'll hear the seagulls cry or the murmuring Shannon tide,
For he fell beneath a northern sky, brave O'Hanlon by his side.
He has gone to join that gallant band of Plunkett, Pearse and Tone,
Another martyr for old Ireland, is Sean South from
Garryowen.

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