In a [G] dimly lit room by the smouldering [D] fire

Sat an [C] old man so [G] lonely so sad and so [D] tired

Once he [G] struggled for freedom, now he struggles to [D] live

With his [C] few small po[G]ssessions and his past to [D]relive



Thereīs a [C] faded old picture on the [G] wall all [Em] alone

A [C] dusty old [D] picture, the [C] pride of his [D] home

With a [C] harp and a shamrock with these [G] words [Em] underneath

 [C] "Ireland [D] unfree shall [C] never be at [D] peace"


And his thoughts wander back to the days of his prime

Oh it seems now thereīs nothing goes faster than time

To his comrades of old he remembers the day

When he marched behind Pearse and the bold IRA


And itīs to Easter week and his thoughts wander back

Oh those leaders of men sure no courage did lack

But now heīs just left with his memories of old

For his name nor his story will never be told


He gazed at that picture and gave a sad smile

For each wrinkle and line told the struggle of time

Then he gazed once again and his eyes filled with tears

For the man in that picture was his friend Padraic Pearse