This is from my notebook marked Aug. ‘69, written just after the event. Full report here: https://www.irishtimes.com/news/father-tells-of-his-son-s-1969-killing-by-british-army-for-the-first-time-1.179715

The Ballad of Pat Rooney melody 1913 Massacre.

Who killed Pat Rooney, who shot him dead?
Who filled all Ireland with terror and dread?
Who caused Britannia to hang down her head?
The Lily, once Orange, is now bloody red.

He stood at the window, his toys put away,
“Get ready for bed, son,” his mother did say,
He wore his pyjamas, his prayers were said,
The Lily, once Orange, is now bloody red.

Below in the street were the keepers of peace,
The Specials of Ulster, the Royal Police,
A Browning machine gun spat bullets of lead,
The Lily, once Orange, is now bloody red.

No more will he play with the boys in the street,
No more he’ll be seen where the wee laddies meet,
For one of those bullets got Pat in the head,
The Lily, once orange, is now bloody red.

The barricades open, the coffin comes through,
The women are silent, the men frightened too,
Throughout the six counties, a murmur is heard,
“The Lily, once Orange, is now bloody red”.

The minister preaches with hell fire and song,
He calls on Lord Jesus to right Ireland’s wrong,
His voice thunders praise while he’s counting the dead.
The Lily, once Orange, is now bloody red.

Who killed Pat Rooney, who shot him dead?
Who filled all Ireland with terror and dread?
Who caused Britannia to hang down her head?
The Lily, once orange, is now bloody read.