A great crowd had gathered outside of Kilmainham,
Their heads all uncovered, they knelt to the ground,
For inside that grim prison lay a brave Irish soldier,
His life for his country about to lay down.

He went to his death like a true son of Ireland,
The firing party he bravely did face,
Then the order rang out, "Present arms and fire!"
James Connolly fell into a ready made grave.

The black flag was hoisted, the cruel deed was over,
Gone was the man who loved Ireland so well,
There was manys a sad heart in Dublin that morning,
When they murdered James Connolly, the Irish rebel.

God's curse on you England, you cruel hearted monster,
Your deeds they would shame all the devils in hell,
There are no flowers blooming when the shamrock is growing,
On the grave of James Connolly, the Irish rebel.

The Four Courts of Dublin the English bombarded,
The spirit of freedom, they tried hard to quell,
But above all the din rose the cry, "No surrender!"
Was the voice of James Connolly, the Irish rebel,
Was the voice of James Connolly, the Irish rebel.