The Coffin Ships

Our young hearts are born with grief And we have paid the penalty of truth A season, of our stolen youth Shall teach old hearts to break It feels like I've been here before Here, where the animals lay down to die So we stand, alone on a distant store Our broken spirits in rags and tatters Our broken spirits and rags in tatters With knot and muscle and heart and brain They are lost to Ireland, they are lost in vain So you pause, and you can, almost hear The sounds, they echo down through the ages The creak, of the burial cart Hear the humiliation and sorrow Mouth fixed with indignation So one is driven to enslave? Oh god that friends should be so dear And human flesh so cheap Our young hearts are born with such grief And we have paid the penalty of truth The season, of our stolen youth Shall teach old hearts to break It feels like I've been here before Here, where the animals lay down to die So we stood, alone on a distant shore Broken spirits, in rags and tatters Our broken spirits and rags in tatters