The woods at Dromboe, song

Joe Doherty (Minogue), singing in English
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Was the feast of Saint Patrick at the dawn of the day
The hills of Tír Chonaill lay slumber and grey
The grey clouds of morning illumined the sky
When four young Irish soldiers were led forth to die.

Three left their loved homes in Munster’s green vale
They came to Tír Chonaill to fight for the Gael
But instead of true friends they met traitors and foe
And uncoffined they lie in the woods of Drumboe.

Those four young Irish soldiers were dragged from their cells
Where for months they had suffered the torments of hell
No mercy was asked from their cowardly foe
Or no mercy was shown from the lords of Drumboe.

The church bell then rang out in clear morning air
To summon the faithful to penance and prayer
When a crash from the rifles struck terror and woe
'Twas the death knell of Deeley shot down in Drumboe.

So let Tír Chonaill no more boast of honour or fame
All the waters in Ireland couldn’t blush out that stain
While the Foyle and the Swilly continue to flow
That stain will remain on the woods of Drumboe.