Oh, father why are you so sad 
On this bright Easter morn' 
When Irish men are proud and glad 
Of the land that they were born? 
Oh, son, I see in mem'ries few 
Of far off distant days 
When being just a lad like you 
I joined the IRA. 

Where are the lads that stood with me 
When history was made? 
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see 
The boys of the old brigade. 

From hills and farms a call to arms 
Was heard by one and all. 
And from the glen came brave young men 
To answer Ireland's call. 
‘T wasn't long ago we faced a foe, 
The old brigade and me, 
And by my side they fought and died 
That Ireland might be free. 

Where are the lads that stood with me 
When history was made? 
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see 
The boys of the old brigade. 

And now, my boy, I've told you why 
On Easter morn' I sigh, 
For I recall my comrades all 
And dark old days gone by. 
I think of men who fought in glen 
With rifle and grenade. 
May heaven keep the men who sleep 
From the ranks of the old brigade. 

Where are the lads that stood with me 
When history was made? 
A Ghra Mo Chroi, I long to see 
The boys of the old brigade.