There's a sacred spot in [D]Dublin,
A place called Arbour Hill.
Where sleeps our noble martyrs
But their message rings out still.
To you their message is calling
As it did that Easter day
When they flew the flag of freedom
And proclaimed the I.R.A.
They marched the men in Dublin,
And for Ireland struck a blow.
They cherished it and raised the flag
Over Dublin's G.P.O.
Traitors tried to sell the cause,
And traitors they may be,
For Pearse had only one in mind,
Old Ireland's liberty.
They followed Tone and Emmet,
And faced a martyrs grave,
We then must take their message,
If our nation we must save.
Six counties still subjected,
And are held by Britain still,
So wake up and show devotion,
To the men of Arbour Hill.
A place called Arbour Hill.
Where sleeps our noble martyrs
But their message rings out still.
To you their message is calling
As it did that Easter day
When they flew the flag of freedom
And proclaimed the I.R.A.
They marched the men in Dublin,
And for Ireland struck a blow.
They cherished it and raised the flag
Over Dublin's G.P.O.
Traitors tried to sell the cause,
And traitors they may be,
For Pearse had only one in mind,
Old Ireland's liberty.
They followed Tone and Emmet,
And faced a martyrs grave,
We then must take their message,
If our nation we must save.
Six counties still subjected,
And are held by Britain still,
So wake up and show devotion,
To the men of Arbour Hill.
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