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Where are the lads who stood with me 
When history was made? 
Oh, gra mo chree I long to see 
The Boys of the Old Brigade. 

"Oh father, why are you so sad, 
on this bright Easter morn? 
When Irishmen are proud and glad 
Of the land where they were born." 
"Oh, son, I see sad mem'ries view 
Of far-off distant days, 
When, being just a boy like you, 
I joined the old brigade. 

 [bad word]  

In hills and farms the call to arms 
Was heard by one and all, 
And from the glens came brave young men 
To answer Ireland's call. 
'Twas long ago we faced the foe, 
The old brigade and me, 
But by my side they fought and died 
That Ireland might be free. 

 [bad word]  

And now, my boy, I've told you why 
On Easter morn I sigh 
For I recall [bad word] all 
From dark old days gone by, 
I think of men who fought in glens 
With rifles and grenade 
May Heaven keep the men who sleep 
From the ranks of the old brigade. 

 [bad word]