LIKE JOE
McCANN
( On an April day in 1972 the British murdered
an
un-armed IRA volunteer. His name was Joe McCann.
)
by
O mother I have seen you cry ,
But ne’er like this before .
O mother mine then tell me why
You weep so sad and sore ?
My son, she said, your father’s
dead ,
Because he loved
Where e’er you go, be proud to
know
That you’re of Joe McCann .
The young boy turned – his eyes
they burned ,
And tears of sorrow fell .
For in his heart ‘twas hard to
part
From him he loved so well .
O mother I shall ne’er deny ,
Or shame my father’s clan .
In weal or woe ‘gainst
I’ll fight like Joe McCann .
The mother dried the tears she’d
cried ,
And softly kissed his face .
And to her breast, the child
she pressed ,
And held in fond embrace .
Let it be vowed we’ll e’er be
proud
And true unto our land .
In weal or woe ‘gainst
We’ll fight like Joe McCann .
* * *