In Dublin City in 1913
The boss was rich and the poor were slaves
The women working and the children hungry
Then on came Larkin like a mighty wave
The workmen cringed when the boss man thundered
Seventy hours was his weekly chore
He asked for little and less was granted
Lest getting little he'd ask for more
But on came Larkin in 1913
A mighty man with a mighty tongue
The voice of labour the voice of justice
And he was gifted and he was young
God sent Larkin in 1913
A labor man with a union tongue
He raised the worker and gave him courage
He was their hero, the workers son
In the month of August the boss man told us
No union man for him could work
We stood by Larkin and told the boss man
We'd fight or die but we would not shirk
Eight months we fought and eight months we starved
We stood by Larkin through thick and thin
But foodless homes and the crying children,
They broke our hearts and we could not win
Then Larkin left us we seemed defeated
The night was black for the working man
But on came Connolly with new hope and counsel
His motto was that we'd rise again
In 1916 in Dublin City
The English soldiers, they burnt our town
They shelled the buildings and shot our leaders
The harp was buried beneath the crown
They shot McDermott and Pearse and Plunkett
They shot McDonagh and Clarke the brave
From bleak Kilmanham they took their bodies
To Arbour Hill to a quicklime grave
But Last of all of the seven leaders
I'll sing the praise of James Connolly
The voice of labour the voice of justice
Who gave his life that men might be free