James Connolly Lyrics - Black 47

Marchin' down O'Connell Street with the Starry Plough on high 

There goes the Citizen Army with their fists raised in the sky 

Leading them is a mighty man with a mad rage in his eye 

My name is James Connolly, I didn't come here to die 

But to fight for the rights of the working man, the small farmer too 

Protect the proletariat from the bosses and their screws 

So hold on to your rifles, boys, don't give up your dreams 

Of a Republic for the workin' class, economic liberty 

Then Jem yells out, "Oh Citizens, this system is a curse 

An English boss is a monster, an Irish one even worse 

They'll never lock us out again and here's the reason why 

My name is James Connolly, I didn't come here to die" 

But to fight for the rights of the working man, the small farmer too 

Protect the proletariat from the bosses and their screws 

So hold on to your rifles, boys, don't give up your dreams 

Of a Republic for the workin' class, economic liberty 

And now we're in the GPO with the bullets whizzin' by 

With Pearse and Sean McDermott biddin' each other good-bye 

Up steps our citizen leader and he roars out to the sky 

My name is James Connolly, I didn't come here to die 

But to fight for the rights of the working man, the small farmer too 

Protect the proletariat from the bosses and their screws 

So hold on to your rifles, boys, don't give up your dreams 

Of a Republic for the workin' class, economic liberty 

Oh Lily, I don't want to die 

We've got so much to live for 

And I know we're goin' out to get slaughtered 

But I just can't take any more 

Just the sight of one more child screamin' from hunger in a Dublin slum 

Or his mother slavin' 14 hours a day for the scum, who exploit her 

And take her youth and throw it on a factory floor? 

Oh Lily, I just can't take any more 

They've locked us out, they've banned our unions 

They even treat their animals better than us 

Oh no, it's far better to die like a man on your feet 

Than to live forever like some slave, on your knees, Lily 

But don't let them wrap any green flag around me 

And for God's sake, don't let them bury me 

In some field full of harps and shamrocks 

And whatever you do, don't let them make a martyr out of me 

Oh no, rather raise the Starry Plough on high, sing a song of freedom 

Here's to you, Lily, the rights of man and international revolution 

We fought them to a standstill while the flames lit up the sky 

'Til a bullet pierced our leader and we gave up the fight 

They shot him in Kilmainham jail but they'll never stop his cry 

My name is James Connolly, I didn't come here to die 

But to fight for the rights of the working man, the small farmer too 

Protect the proletariat from the bosses and their screws 

So hold on to your rifles, boys, don't give up your dreams 

Of a Republic for the workin' class, economic liberty, economic liberty