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Lyrics by Glen Anthony
Music by Charlie Chaplin

My love, you are the song
That sings inside of me
The song is always the same
It starts with love
Anyways, this song was written by our friend Glen Shirley
Um, hope we do your song justice Glen, we're going to do our best

Inside the walls of prison my
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No fife did hum, no battle
It was down the glen one Easter morn, to a city fair rode I
There Ireland's lines of marching men, in squadron passed me by
No pipes did hum or no
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No fife did hum, no battle
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No fife did hum, no battle
There is a mountain of snow, up past the big glen
We have a castle enclosed, there is a fountain
Out of the fountain flows gold, into a huge hand
It was down the glen one Easter morn, to a city fair rode I
There Ireland's lines of marching men, in squadron passed me by
No pipes did hum or no
It was down the glen one Easter morn, to a city fair rode I
There Ireland's lines of marching men, in squadron passed me by
No pipes did hum or no
hid our fairy vats
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.

[Chorus]
Come away oh human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery
It was down the glen one Easter morn, to a city fair rode I
There Ireland's lines of marching men, in squadron passed me by
No pipes did hum or no
through the night.

Enemies shall scream in pain and burn by flash of fire.
By spear and axe they'll meet their fate.
Boundless age of Yggrasil, such is our
An Ulster man I am proud to be
From the Antrim glens I come
And though I've laboured by the sea
I have followed fife and drum
I have heard
a mountain and glen,
Forget not the boys of the heather
Who rallied their bravest and best
When Ireland was broken in Wexford
And looked for revenge
a mountain and glen,
Forget not the boys of the heather
Who rallied their bravest and best
When Ireland was broken in Wexford
And looked for revenge
The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we
victory was sure 
Soon the firebrand he'd secure 
Until he met at Glen Malure Feach 
Mac Hugh O'Byrne 

But me I'm sick and tired of hate 
I'll never
The clouds way up high
And greeted by a thunderstorm
We chant a battle cry
Honor is enthroned
Again as the one eternal heir
With fearless might our
a mountain and glen,
Forget not the boys of the heather
Who rallied their bravest and best
When Ireland was broken in Wexford
And looked for revenge
has no control
Deathless and divine Gododdin soul
(This) foul bishop who defiled at Glen
Feel the rage of heathens return once again

The great
hid our fairy vats
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.

Come away oh human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand
homes by ship to foreign glens
There's Linton and there's Cheviot and red deer on the bens
For us it's over, over, over, my friend
As down the glen one easter morn to a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by
No pipes did hum no bottle drum,
herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
 there we've hid our fairy vats
Full of berries
 and of reddest stolen cherries

Come away, human child
We, the most distant dwellers upon the earth, the last of the free, have been shielded by our remoteness and by the obscurity which has shrouded our