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In a [G] dimly lit room by the smouldering [D] fire
Sat an [C] old man so [G] lonely so sad and so [D] tired
Once he [G] struggled for freedom, now he struggles to [D] live
With his [C] few small po[G]ssessions and his past to [D]relive
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Thereīs a [C] faded old picture on the [G] wall all [Em] alone
A [C] dusty old [D] picture, the [C] pride of his [D] home
With a [C] harp and a shamrock with these [G] words [Em] underneath
[C] "Ireland [D] unfree shall [C] never be at [D] peace"
And his thoughts wander back to the days of his prime
Oh it seems now thereīs nothing goes faster than time
To his comrades of old he remembers the day
When he marched behind Pearse and the bold IRA
And itīs to Easter week and his thoughts wander back
Oh those leaders of men sure no courage did lack
But now heīs just left with his memories of old
For his name nor his story will never be told
He gazed at that picture and gave a sad smile
For each wrinkle and line told the struggle of time
Then he gazed once again and his eyes filled with tears
For the man in that picture was his friend Padraic Pearse
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