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And those loving English feet they tramped all over us,
And each and every night when me father came home tight
He'd invite the neighbors outside with this chorus:
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders,
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.
Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows,
How you bravely faced each one with your 16-pounder gun,
And you frightened them poor natives to their marrow.
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders,
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.
When you thought him well and truly persecuted,
Where are the sneers and jeers that you bravely let us hear
When our heroes of '16 were executed?
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders,
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.