There's a place just outside Lisburn,
A place that's known to few,
Where a group of Irish rebels,
Are held by Faulkner's crew,
They are forced to live in cages,
Like the inmates of Bellevue,
But the spirit of 1916,
Will always see them through.

The men inside that vile place,
Come from far and near,
Some from the Derry Bogside,
And Omagh town so dear,
And some of them's from Belfast,
From the Markets and the Falls,
From the narrow streets of Ardoyne,
And all around Tyrone.

On that black day in August,
When Faulkner showed his hand,
And he thought that by internment,
He would beat our gallant band,
But the boys from Ballymurphy,
They showed the way that night,
And they taught those English bastards,
How Irish men can fight.

Long Kesh is known to everyone,
The system must be broke,
Ardoyne, the New Lodge and the Falls,
Will see the system choke,
And no more the Special Powers Act,
Or it's deeds it will invoke,
And Long Kesh will be the U-Stone,
On which the system's broke.

Now here's a word you Irish men,
No matter where you are,
Just remember our brave heroes,
In Long Kesh this year,
And by civil disobedience,
Or any other way,
Let's make a stand until the end,
When all of them are free.