Sean Sabhat(or South) was shot by the R.U.C. in a daring

I.R.A. raid on the Brookebourgh barracks in 1956, he was only 19.



Sad are the homes around Garryowen

Since lost their joy and pride

And the banshee wail rings every bell

Along the Shannon side

That city of the ancient walls

Unbroken treaty stone

Undying fame surrounds your name

Sean Sabhat from Garryowen.


'Twas [G] on a dreary new years day

As the [C] shades of night came [G] down.

A lorry load of [C] volun[G] teers

[Am7] Approached a [Am] border [D7] town

There were [G] men from Dublin [C] and from [G] Cork,

Fer[Am7]managh [Am] and Ty[D7]rone,

But the [G] leader was a Limerick man,

Sean [C] Sabhat of [G] Garryowen.


And as they moved along the street

Up to the barrack door,

The scorned the danger they would meet,

The fate that lay in store.

They were fighting for old Ireland's cause,

To claim our very own,

And the foremost of that gallant band

Was Sabhat of Garryowen.


But the sergeant foiled their daring plan,

He spied them thro' the door.

Then the sten guns and the rifles,

A hail of death did pour

And when that awful night was past,

Two men were cold as stone,

There was one from near the border and

One from Garryowen.


May God keep o`er those gallant men,

May heaven be their home.

Twas in Brookebourgh town where they were shot down,

On the cobbles they lay cold.

Well they never feared the R.U.C.

Or the B-Men on patrol

O`Hanlon from the border

and Sabhat from Garryowen.


No more he'll hear the seagull cry,

O'er the murmuring Shannon tide,

For he fell beneath the northern sky,

Brave Hanlon at his side,

He has gone to join that gallant band of

Plunkett, Pearse and Tone,

A martyr for old Ireland,

Sean Sabhat of Garryowen.