the easter riseing
I WROTH THIS POMES FOR IRELANDS SONS AND NOW WE HAVE PEACE THATS WHAT THEY WOULD HAVE WANTED
Sons Of Scotland
Sons Of Scotland It is sad to hear a summer’s last gasp sigh as through balding forests rising winds cry, when sweet and sour notes fill Autumn’s ear a year’s sun filled season’s last tune we hear! Far more sad when on foreign shore we stand
Our Nation
We stand for what we believe in through all our pain and grief. Although our friends and neighbors look in disbelief. The rich seem to control our life as they roll the dice, while the poor stay poor and the middleclass have to pay the price.