The Boys Of Barr Na Sraide - Christy Moore

Oh, the town, it climbs the mountains and looks upon the sea

At sleeping time or waking time, it’s there I’d like to be

To walk again those kindly streets, the place where life began

With the Boys of Barr na Sráide who hunted for the wren

With cudgels stout they roamed about to hunt for the dreólín*

We searched for birds in every furze from Litir to Dooneen

We danced for joy beneath the sky, life held no print nor plan

When the Boys of Barr na Sráide went hunting for the wren

And when the hills were bleedin' and the rifles were aflame

To the rebel homes of Kerry the Saxon strangers came

But the men who dared the Auxies and fought the Black-and-Tan

Were the Boys of Barr na Sráide who hunted for the wren

But now they toil in foreign soil where they have made their way

Deep in the heart of London or over on Broadway

And I am left to sing their deeds and praise them while I can

Those Boys of Barr na Sráide who hunted for the wren

And here’s a health to them tonight wherever they may be

By the groves of Carham river or the slope of Bean 'a Tí

John Daly and Batt Andy and the Sheehans, Con and Dan

And the Boys of Barr na Sráide who hunted for the wren

When the wheel of life runs out and peace come over me

Just take me back to that old town between the hills and sea

I’ll take my rest in those green fields, the place where life began

With those Boys of Barr na Sráide who hunted for the wren