Oh I am a merry ploughboy and I ploughed the fields all day
´Till a sudden thought came to my mind that I should roam away
For I´m sick and tired of slavery since the day that I was born
And I´m off to join the I.R.A. and I´m off tomorrow morn.

And we´re off to Dublin in the green, in the green
Where the helmets glisten in the sun
Where the bayonets flash and the rifles crash
To the echo of the Thompson Gun.

I´ll leave aside my pick and spade and I´ll leave aside my plough
I´ll leave aside my old grey mare for no more I´ll need them now
And I´ll take my short revolver and my bandoleer of lead
I´ll do or die I can try to avenge my country´s dead.

I´ll leave aside my Mary she´s the girl I do adore
And I wonder will she think of me when she hears the rifles roar
And when the war is over and old Ireland she is free
I will take her to the church to wed and a rebels wife she´ll be.