The Green Brigade Poem by D.A. Woods

When night falls, you won't see us on our street corners,
protecting our roads, which make us feel like foreigners.
On our own land where our forefathers fell,
we're driving the enemy, straight back to hell.

Crouching on one knee watching traffic going past,
with the night hat on and a rifle to clasp,
just waiting in the midst, waiting for a call,
from County Armagh, Free Derry, Down, Antrim, Tyrone, Fermanagh - we'll protect you all.