Oh I am a merry ploughboy

and I ploughed the fields all day

´Till a sudden thought came to my mind

that I should roam away

For I´m sick and tired of slavery

since the day that I was born

And I´m off to join the I.R.A.

and I´m off tomorrow morn.





And we´re all off to Dublin

in the green, in the green

Where the helmets glisten in the sun

Where the bayonets flash

and the rifles crash

To the echo of the Thompson Gun.



I´ll leave aside my pick and spade

and I´ll leave aside my plough

I´ll leave aside my old grey mare

for no more I´ll need them now

And I´ll take my short revolver

and my bandoleer of lead

I´ll do or die I can try

to avenge my country´s dead.



I´ll leave aside my Mary

she´s the girl I do adore

And I wonder will she think of me

when she hears the rifles roar

And when the war is over

and old Ireland she is free

I will take her to the church to wed

and a rebels wife she´ll be