Here you go. The source on this is the Wolfetones 25th Anniversary Booklet.

To hell or Connaught was Cromwell's war cry,
And the West says the poet in slumber does lie
From Mayo, God help us, they cried long ago for you
Suffered in silence and the hate of the foe
You were born in that County of green and red
Where millions of people from famine they fled.
You felt the pain of a people so proud
And you seen the neglect of the traitor and the coward
For Monsignor Horan your courage and love inspired
I've no doubt by the man up above

CHORUS
In the County of Mayo, there's a beautiful shrine
And it's called Cnoc Muire with power divine
Seat of a Queen who reigns from above
And who is looked on in Ireland with affection and love
For the village of Knock with its beauty serene
Set in a county of emerald green.
Monsignor Horan, you can hold your head high for
You put down the concrete that brought planes from the sky

The Lady of Knock, the light of the West
Appeared on the spot which St. Patrick he blessed
Bring people from lands that are far, far away
To come to your altar to kneel and to pray
Bring young and old, aged and infirm.
Knock, it was chosen by a power supreme
And God he has placed you in some divine scheme
A sagart, a grá tá an aerfort go deo agus
Anim á labhairt in ngach áit i Maigheo

CHORUS

Just like the priests at the Mass rock of old
Who braved redcoats, hunger and famine and cold.
Your cause although different, objective's the same
You remembered your country and true to your name
The very same people were there at your side
Who guarded the vestments of faith long ago
Will stand now on guard above and below
A sagart, a grá tá an aerfort go deo agus
Anim á labhairt in ngach áit i Maigheo

CHORUS