(Trad)A great crowd had gathered outside of Kilmainham
With their heads uncovered they knelt on the ground
For inside that grim prison lay a brave Irish soldier
His life for his country about to lay down
He went to his death like a true son of Ireland
The firing party he bravely did face
Then the order rang out, Present arms and fire!
James Connolly fell into a ready-made grave
The black flag was hoisted, the cruel deed was over
Gone was the man who loved Ireland so well
There was many a sad heart in Dublin that morning
When they murdered James Connolly, the Irish Rebel
God's curse on you, England, you cruel-hearted monster
Your deeds they would shame all the devils in hell
There are no flowers blooming but the shamrock is growing
On the grave of James Connolly, the Irish Rebel
The Four Courts in Dublin the English bombarded
The spirit of freedom they tried hard to quell
But above all the din rose the cry, No surrender
'Twas the voice of James Connolly, the Irish rebel
(as sung by The Wolfe Tones)