Tyrone

Sad are the homes round Garryowen
Since they lost their joy and pride
And the banshee cry links every vale
Around the Shannon side that city of the ancient walls
the broken treaty stone, undying fame surrounds your name, Sean South from GarryowenT'was on a dreary New Years Eve
As the shades of night came down
A lorry load of volunteers approached the border town
There were men from Dublin and from Cork, Fermanagh and Tyrone
And the leader was a Limerick man - Sean South from GarryowenAs they moved along the street up to the barracks door
They scorned the danger they might face
Their fate that lay instore
They were fighting for old Ireland to claim their very own
And the foremost of that gallant band
Was South from GarryowenBut the seargent spied their daring plan
He spied them trough the door
The Sten guns and the rifles a hail of death did pour
And when that awful night had passed
Two men lay cold a stone
There was one from near the border and one from Garryowen