Molly Malone

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Early on a Sunday morning,
High upon a gallows tree,
Kevin Barry gave his young life
for the cause of liberty.
Only a lad of eighteen summers,
Yet there’s no one can deny,
That he went to death that morning,
nobly held his head up high.

“Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
Do not hang me like a dog;
For I fought for Ireland’s freedom
On that dark September morn,
All around that little bakery,
Where we fought them hand to hand.
Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
For I fought to free Ireland.”

Just before he faced the hangman,
In his lonely prison cell,
British soldiers tortured Barry
Just because he would not tell
All the names of his companions
Other things they wished to know;
“Turn informer, and we’ll free you.”
Proudly Barry answered, “No !”

“Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
Do not hang me like a dog;
For I fought for Ireland’s freedom
On that dark September morn,
All around that little bakery,
Where we fought them hand to hand.
Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
For I fought to free Ireland.”

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