Stones mark Irish which lowly lay, 

away from the fields and streets 

where blood is shed on rebellion day 

rest now quietly, never knowing 

defeats. 

 I pass stones in Boneyard roadside, 

my heart flows their blood, my own! 

To them debt owed, deed swelled pride. 

My family name, carved upon stone. 

For freedom, for liberty, no cost too high, 

wide fields and streets red with desire, 

rage of all Ireland once trembled the sky 

to control our own destiny, all we require! 

I am an Irishman, able to make choices, 

no distant entity to make life hateful. 

Forever and all time, I will hear Irish voices,  

the sacrifice immortal, green coloured grateful.