When the men came a-knocking
the die was cast,
plans in tatters behind the door;
then mothers wrung their hands in grief
clinging to tragic hope and belief.
On their final visiting list
were sons of Derry
who had drank and talked
sealing their fate
without a trial.
When the man came a-knocking
to take them away
those dreamers of freedom
espousers of causes
who sought and served
faced an end they never deserved:
McKee, McVay, Seamus Ruddy
were but a few, who never lived
to enjoy the view of peace in their time
with their heads in hoods,
cursed in death,
young blood now spilt on a dying breath.
Whispers of sadness came in on the wind
with tales of bogs and shifted sands
while mothers grew old remembering sons
in photo frames
smiling with pride, before the flames.