Terrorist or Dreamer? - Mick Hanley.

In Sackville Street the curfew
Drove the restless out of sight
The Black and Tans marched up and down
The moon shone cold and bright
The shot was like a whipcrack
Pulled the first man off his feet
He died on bloody cobbled stones
While his comrades combed the streets
They called up reinforcements
Pulled the people from their beds
They were screaming get the bastard
But it's fear was in their heads
Found him in a cellar
He was only seventeen
Fighting for his country
Dying for the green
The Sergeant dragged him by the hair
And beat him to the ground
Into this young man's body
He emptied every round
Come out and take a look he cried
As he marched his troops away
They went in stoney silence
Such a price to have to pay
Some knelt and prayed beside him
Ah but it's too late anyhow
They said he was a rebel then
But he's a hero now