Nobody’s Heroes

From out of the darkness they strike,
The brave freedom fighters have come,
To cut down the enemy soldiers;
They live and they die by the gun.

Tonight on the backstreets of Belfast,
Tomorrow the border they’ll make,
For Ireland and freedom they do this,
The rule of their despots to break.

Admirers pour scorn on their victims,
Write ballads and poems and songs
To honour these fabulous heroes,
And sing of the great deeds they’ve done.

The IRA, INLA and Nor-Aid,
Their friends of the left and the red,
Rejoice every time that a bullet
Strikes a young British serviceman dead.

The brave freedom fighters of Ireland
Under cover of darkness have come
To cut down the enemy soldiers;
They live and they die by the gun.

But who are these wonderful people
Who so want their country to free?
Who murder and maim and disable,
Yet speak only of liberty?

Like thieves in the night they come sneaking,
From out of the woodwork they crawl,
To bomb and disfigure and murder -
The sickest and lowest of all.

Two thousand and rising, their victims,
Soldiers and civilians as well,
Policemen and women and children,
Blown to pieces by creatures from Hell.

In one single night, eighteen soldiers,
So many before then and since,
A lord of the land
Whose death at their hand
Brought tears to the eyes of a prince.

They say they are proud to be Irish,
And dream of their glory and fame,
But every good man
In that green, pleasant land
Surely curses the sound of their name.

And when in the prisons defiant,
Smearing shit on the walls of their cells,
Claiming they have political status,
But their actions tell far different tales.

See what they’ve done to their own people,
The children they’ve orphaned and killed,
The woman they’ve widowed and murdered,
The fathers whose blood they have spilled.

These killers are nobody’s heroes,
All they bring us are violence and hate,
The time has now come
For the men with the guns
To be dealt with, before it’s too late.

See how brave these vermin will be when
The ropes are secured round their necks,
And the wrath of the just
Comes down as it must
To silence forever their threats.

The brave freedom fighters of Ireland
Must be given no place to run,
These ‘brave men’ are nobody’s heroes,
They live, let them die, by the gun.

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