Black and Tans - The Pint Thieves

I was born in the Dublin streets Where the loyal drums do beat And the loving English feet walked all over us Where each and every night When me dad would come home tight He'd call the neighbors out with this chorus "Come out you black and tans, come out and fight me like a man Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders Show her how the IRA made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra" Come tell us how you slew them old Arabs two by two Like the Zulus they had knives and bows and arrows How bravely you faced one with your 16-pounder gun And you frightened all the natives to the marrow "Come out you black and tans, come out and fight me like a man Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders Show her how the IRA made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra" Come let us hear you tell how you slew the great Parnell And showed him what was well and persecuted Where are the stares and jeers that you proudly let us hear When our heroes of '16 were executed? "Come out you black and tans, come out and fight me like a man Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders Show her how the IRA made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra" Come out you British huns, come out and fight without your guns Show your wife how you won medals up in Derry You murdered five young men and you'd do the same again So get out of here and take your bloody army "Come out you black and tans, come out and fight me like a man Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders Show her how the IRA made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra" "Come out you black and tans, fight me like a man Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders Show her how the IRA made you run like hell away From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra"

I had a prodigal son, Mathew was his name He went to war on a foreign shore Lost his legs, and was never the same He used to lay the bricks, now he lays a'bed Strong arms strong back, they won't come back Brand new boots, unused til he's dead My second son named Mark, he had such clear green eyes From Sunday Mass, to Mustard Gas Coughing fits, until he dies Blood flecks his lips, wracked by choking cough Loses his breath, and waits for death Mark my son, your life is lost Luke, my tallest son, he answered his Captain's call He sailed away, from Galway Bay And lost a race with a cannon ball It took him in the chest, and opened up his life He fell to the deck, his body a wreck His empty bed, and his lonely wife The fate of my son John, the youngest son of mine Just like the rest, he gave his best The King calls war, hour glass runs dry And now I sit alone, and gaze at the lonely shore My heart is bent, my sons are spent Alas my children, the sons of war.