It was on a dreary New Years day, when the shade of night came down
A lorry load of volunteers, approached the border town
There were men from Dublin and from Cork, Fermanagh and Tyrone
But the leader was a Limerick man, Sean South of Garryowen

And as they moved along the street, up to the barracks door
They scorned the danger the would meet, the fate that lay in store
They were fighting for Old Ireland, to make their very own
And the foremost of this gallant band, was South of Garryowen

But the sergeant spoiled their daring plans, he spied them through the door
And with sten guns and with rifle, a hail of death did roar
But when that awful night was o'er, two men lay cold as stone
There was one from near the border, and one from Garryowen

No more he will hear the seagull cry, o'er the murmuring Shannon tide
For he fell beneath a Northern sky, brave O'Hanlon by his side
He has gone to join that gallant band, of Plunkett, Pearse and 'Tone
Another martyr for old Ireland, Sean South of Garryowen.