Brendan McFarlane - Terrorist or a Dreamer | Текст песни

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• Brendan McFarlane
• Terrorist or a Dreamer

In Sackville Street the curfew, drove the restless out of sight,
The Black and Tans marched up and down, the moon shone cold and bright,
The shot was like a whip crack, pulled the first man off his feet,
He died on bloody cobble stones while his comrades combed the street,
They called up reinforcements, pulled the people from their beds,
They were screaming "Get that bastard!", but it's fear was in their heads

They found him in a cellar, he was only seventeen,
Fighting for his country, dying for the green.
The sergeant dragged him by the hair and beat him to the ground,
Into this young mans body he emptied every round

"Come out and take a look", he cried as he marched his troops away,
They went in stony silence, such a prize to have today.
Some knelt and prayed beside him, ah but it's too late anyhow,
They said he was a rebel then, and he's a hero now.

In '66 this country sang the praises of the dead,
We didn't call them rebels then we used 'patriot' instead,
On every household TV screen we saw how hard they fought,
How they spilled their life's blood, and how freedom had been bought

The garden gates were opened up to silent motorcades,
Cannons boomed and flags unfurled and solemn wreaths were laid,
Prayers for those departed were called for loud and clear,
For those who had been outlawed, ah but that was another year...

The veterans stood up stiff and proud, their white hair ruled the wind,
With their pride pinned to their gaberdine and thoughts upon their friends,
And bitter wounds burst open, the scars of history,
Went flying into our faces in stark reality,
Just up the road from Sackville Street ah but things are different now,
They said he was a rebel then but he's a hero now

Along the Falls Road soldiers push, their glances left and right,
Kids of the English working class, soldiers overnight,
Tossed into the melting pot of bloody war and strife,
Never understanding and fearing for their lives

Outside the Glenn Road Brewery a bomb takes two away,
The bombers work is over; he's finished for the day,
The terrorist or the dreamer: the savage or the brave?
It depends who's vote you're trying to catch, or who's face you're trying to save.

There's tea and cakes in Downing Street, there's whispers in the halls,
Let's move to cure Rhodesia now our backs are to the wall.
There's panic down in Leinster House where words are seldom scarce,
"Send someone to Glasnevin quick to remember Padraig Pearse!"

Once more His crucifixion, it seems a lie somehow
They said he was a rebel then, but he's a hero now
Once more His crucifixion, it seems a lie somehow
They said he was a rebel then, but he's a hero now
But he's a hero now.

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