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Thursday, January 18, 2018

Bloody Sunday March

Posted by Jim on January 12, 2018

Bloody Sunday March
Best suits, coats , gloves and hats
The whole town had set off to mass
Laughing, joking, they’re once a week natter,
Discussing the things that really do matter
A shout from across “ye fur the march the day”
“For civil rights, sure ye couldn’t keep me away”
Dockers, window cleaners, butchers and, bakers…
Lawyers, doctors, and all the shirt makers
Schoolteachers, unemployed, even undertakers
Bankers, borrowers, and all the bookmakers
They came in their thousands on that January afternoon
They came with no notion of what was going to happen soon
Behind the scenes, paratroopers, waiting for the order
To get in there, to kill , maim, cause mayhem and disorder
Bogwogs, fenian thugs, slags,
Whores rearing scum
Names we were called
By Britain’s great sons.
This wasn’t just any day
They went for a cull
They left us in silence
Just a heart wrenching lull
They laughed back at barracks
Patting each others backs,
While mothers and fathers
Tried to trace their wanes tracks
They found them, dead and wounded
Sons daughters, husbands, a wife
Young Peggy, shot and wounded
Trying to save a boys life
Well Britain that day I cursed you
May you forever be damned
For that day you came
And sullied my land

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