As a citizen of dear old Ireland's, green isle
It breaks my heart to see such a dim political style
The poor people want a change in the leader seat
The rich may prefer to keep the old lad sweet
Well we need new blood to rise up on their feet
Speak out and let it be said, or are you all dead?
What happens to the memory of the men of 1916 &1798?
Will their ghosts come back to haunt them at the Dail gate.
Oh, how I wish that Ireland would come out of the Dark Age
When I listen to Dail debates by those in power, I feel in rage
I yearning in vain that we had a leader who was good and true
Man or a woman, that would put the people first for me and you.
mai venn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem