Don't know if it's of interest to anyone, but I wrote this version after the Drumcree fiasco in 1998.

The Foggy Dew 1998

Through Portadown in North Armagh
one summer's morn fair rode I
And grim-faced lines of marching men
in columns passed me by
No pipe did hum, but the lambeg drum
Did sound out its wild tattoo
And the rhythmic beat of the marching feet
Rang out in the foggy dew.

Oh, the eve fell black and the rifle's crack
Volleyed plastic bullets at the mass
And the sable night was made as daylight
By the petrol bombs' blinding blast
The talks and plans for a safer land
Were torn once again in two
And the ancient sore ran with blood once more
And stained the foggy dew.

I turned away then and rode off again
And my heart with grief was keen
For the chances fled and the needless dead
And the thought of how it could have been
But to and fro in my dreams you go
And I weep and I pray for you
May you orange and green soon together keen
For your fallen in the foggy dew.

Chris