Land so near I have not seen or ever been but you are home,
Part of me and family but never a word unto spoke,
Never met or interleaved have me or the folk,
Ireland my land of turmoil.

Heart cast so deep and torn with wounds both mine and public,
Where dream of green pasture and rolling field seem as close as home,
Tho' so far apart in my city of stone,
I will walk your soil.

I am the hand of the enemy and the weapon of innocence,
My blood boiled but none taken to return,
My pain felt by family burn,
I will know your scent.

Ireland I have heard your call and I am shouting back,
Hear me crie I have no pateince for loss,
Politics and religion I dont give a toss,
Be now hatred spent.