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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The familiar sound of gunshots rings out in the dead of night, As a sniper takes position in the bushes out of sight, Past my front door I hear the sound of many marching feet, As 2 Para make their presence felt upon a Belfast street, Gerry Adams does a hard days graft 'n' then it's homeward bound, As a British soldier just nineteen lays bleeding on the ground, Well he fought for queen 'n' country so it comes as no surprise, As he draws his last breath,says a prayer and there a hero dies, So many slain civilians(they're just casualties of war, Do the f*ckers even realise what it is they're fighting for? Or has the whole point of it got lost in the mists of time? The Ira take credit for their latest deadly crime, In a safe house miles from nowhere there's three loyalists lying dead, One in a grave (he was buried alive) and two with one straight through the head, But the score it was evened before the cock crowed,three catholic civilians were slain, And there's rumours of vengeance and fights to the death and calls to keep calm from Sinn Fein, As politicians armed with pens sit counting up lost lives, The Ulster Paramilitary sit sharpening their knives, And loading slugs into the clip of someone else's gun, "Come on now lads there's dirty deeds awaiting to be done" In Londonderry,County Down,in Belfast,Newry too, The Catholics and the Protestants keep Ireland torn in two, As our children grow in the shadow of fear, There's a stench of death and bloodshed here, So you with the power please give us the chance, To find a solution and finish the dance, Give Ireland back to the Irish pleeaasssse! Or bring the whole damned nation crashing down to its knees.
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