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  • 作曲 : McGuigan
    Oh, father why are you so sad
    On this bright Easter morn’
    When Irish men are proud and glad
    Of the land that they were born?
    Oh, son, I see in mem’ries few
    Of far off distant days
    When being just a lad like you
    I joined the IRA.
    Where are the lads that stood with me
    When history was made?
    A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
    The boys of the old brigade.
    From hills and farms a call to arms
    Was heard by one and all.
    And from the glen came brave young men
    To answer Ireland’s call.
    ‘T wasn’t long ago we faced a foe,
    The old brigade and me,
    And by my side they fought and died
    That Ireland might be free.
    Where are the lads that stood with me
    When history was made?
    A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
    The boys of the old brigade.
    And now, my boy, I’ve told you why
    On Easter morn’ I sigh,
    For I recall my comrades all
    And dark old days gone by.
    I think of men who fought in glen
    With rifle and grenade.
    May heaven keep the men who sleep
    From the ranks of the old brigade.
    Where are the lads that stood with me
    When history was made?
    A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
    The boys of the old brigade.
  • 作曲 : McGuigan
    Oh, father why are you so sad
    On this bright Easter morn’
    When Irish men are proud and glad
    Of the land that they were born?
    Oh, son, I see in mem’ries few
    Of far off distant days
    When being just a lad like you
    I joined the IRA.
    Where are the lads that stood with me
    When history was made?
    A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
    The boys of the old brigade.
    From hills and farms a call to arms
    Was heard by one and all.
    And from the glen came brave young men
    To answer Ireland’s call.
    ‘T wasn’t long ago we faced a foe,
    The old brigade and me,
    And by my side they fought and died
    That Ireland might be free.
    Where are the lads that stood with me
    When history was made?
    A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
    The boys of the old brigade.
    And now, my boy, I’ve told you why
    On Easter morn’ I sigh,
    For I recall my comrades all
    And dark old days gone by.
    I think of men who fought in glen
    With rifle and grenade.
    May heaven keep the men who sleep
    From the ranks of the old brigade.
    Where are the lads that stood with me
    When history was made?
    A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see
    The boys of the old brigade.