In a dimly lit room by the smouldering fire
Sat an old man so lonely, so sad
And so tired once he struggled for freedom
Now he struggles to live
With his few small possessions and
His past to relive

There's a faded old picture on
The wall all alone
A dusty old picture, the pride of his home
With a harp and a shamrock
With these words underneath:
'Ireland unfree shall never be at peace'

And his thoughts wander back to
The days of his prime
Oh, it seems now there's nothing
Goes faster than time
To his comrades of old and
He remembers the day
When he marched behind Pearse
And the bold IRA

And it's to Easter week and
His thoughts wander back
Oh, those leaders of men sure
No courage did lack
But now he's just left with
His memories of old
For his name nor his story will ever be told

He gazed at that picture and
He gave a sad smile
For each wrinkle and line told
A struggle of time
Then he gazed once again and
His eyes filled with tears
For the man in that picture
Was his friend Pádraig Pearse


There's a faded old picture on
The wall all alone
A dusty old picture, the pride of his home
With a harp and a shamrock
With these words underneath
'Ireland unfree shall never be at peace'