Broad Black Brimmer

There's a uniform that's hanging in what's known as fathers room

A uniform so simple in it's style

It's got no braid of gold, nor silk, nor hat with feathered plume

Yet me mother has preserved it all the while

One day she made me try it on, a wish of mine for years

This in memory of your father Sean she said

And when I put the sam brown on, she was smiling through her tears

As she placed the broad black brimmer on my head

It's just a broad black brimmer with ribbons frayed and torn

By the careless whisk of manys about a breeze

An old trench coat that's so battle-stained and worn

And breeches almost threadbare at the knees

A sam brown belt with a buckle big and strong

And a holster that's been empty manys a day (but not for Long)

But when men claim Ireland's Freedom

The one should choose to lead them

Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA

It was the uniform be worn by my father long ago

When he reached me mother's homestead on the run

It was the uniform be worn in that little church below

When 'oul father mac, he blessed the pair as one

And after truce and treaty and the parting of the ways

He wore it when he marched out with the rest (and the best)

And when they bore his body down on that rugged heather braes

They placed the broad black brimmer on his chest

It's just a broad black brimmer with ribbons frayed and torn

Made the careless whisk of manys a mountain breeze

An old trench coat that's so battle-stained and worn

And breeches almost threadbare at the knees

A sam brown belt with a buckle big and strong

And a holster that's been empty manys a day (but not for Long)

But when men claim Ireland's Freedom

The one should choose to lead them

Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA