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Mick Ryan's Lament

Artist:Tim O'Brien 

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Well my name is Mick Ryan, I'm lyin still In a lonely spot near where I was killed By a red man defending his native land In the place that they call Little Big Horn And I swear I did not see the irony When I rode with the Seventh Cavalry I thought that we fought for the land of the free When we rode from Fort Lincoln that morning And the band they played the Garryowen Brass was shining, flags a flowin I swear if I had only known I'd have wished that I'd died back at Vicksburg For my brother and me, we had barely escaped From the hell that was Ireland in forty eight Two angry young lads who had learned how to hate But we loved the idea of Amerikay And we cursed our cousins who fought and bled In their bloody coats of bloody red The sun never sets on the bloody


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