Kids wear white garters and smell like their mothers Whose husbands and fathers alike Drink black beer in the same public houses Smelling of smoke and strong whiskey Mammies and daddies and skipping ropes Lectures from priests living in hope They've not mistaken the brand of their coats Paid for by their spiritual teachings A busy year this, the streets running red How many sent to a nuptial bed And how many sent home to a winter of graves And how many wait in for the slaughter Oh the holy ground Ceud mile failte, there's saints and there's scholars to see Oh the holy ground The far away hills ain't as green as they once used to be It's Easter again and we cannot forget Brothers and sisters and all that was said So practise your pipes, stand proud in the wet But the eyes of the world are upon you God in his mercy has given us men To lead us to peace but they can't bring an end To the profits that pay off the lease on the land We still send them over the water Seventeen years and Kelly is a man Who stands on the street with a gun in his hand Protecting the pipers that play in the band While the enemy waits with an army Dia le hEireann, suckle the empire Dia le hEireann, suffer the loss Of the green to the blue while the media feeds On the blood and the pain and the hatred Father walks home on the colourless night And the organisation has blinded his sight His wife and his kids are sleeping tonight In the arms of sweet Jesus and Mary