The Pikeys

Black and Tans


I was born on a Dublin street where the royal drums do beat,

And those loving English feet they tramped all over us,

And each and every night when me father came home tight

Invited neighbors outside with this chorus:

Come out you Black and Tans, come and fight me like a man,

Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders,

Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away

From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.

Come let me hear you tell how you slandered great Parnell

When you thought him well and truly persecuted,

Where are the sneers and jeers that you bravely let us hear

When our heroes of sixteen were executed?

Come tell us how you slew those poor Arabs two by two,

Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows,

How you bravely slew each one with your sixteen thunder gun,

And you frightened them poor natives to their marrow.

And the day is coming fast and the time is here at last,

When each yeoman will be cast aside before us,

And if there be a need, sure my kids would sing, “Godspeed, “

With a verse or two of Stephen Behan’s chorus.

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