[Verse]
There's a uniform that's hanging in what's known as father's room,
A uniform so simple in its style,
It has no braid of gold or silk, no hat with feathered plume,
Yet me mother has preserved it all the while.

One day she made me try it on, a wish I carried for years,
"In memory of your father, Seán", she said,
And as she placed the Sam Browne back, she was smiling through her tears,
As they placed the broad black brimmer on his chest.

[Chorus]
It's just a broad black brimmer, ribbons frayed and torn,
By the carelessnessof manys a mountain breeze,
An old trench coat that's so battle-stained and worn,
And breeches almost threadbare at the knees.

A Sam Browne belt with a buckle big and strong,
And a holster that's been empty manys a days,
But then came Ireland's freedom, the one's to choose to lead them,
Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA.

[Verse]
It was the uniform me father wore in the mountains long ago,
When he reached me mother's homestead on the run,
It's the uniform he wore it in that little church below,
When Father Mac, he blessed the pair as one.

And after truce and treaty and the parting of the ways,
He wore it when he marched on with the rest,
And when they bore his body down that rugged heather brae,
They placed the broad black brimmer on his chest.

[Chorus]
It's just a broad black brimmer, ribbons frayed and torn,
By the carelessness of manys a mountain breeze,
An old trench coat that's so battle-stained and worn,
And breeches almost threadbare at the knees.

A Sam Browne belt with a buckle big and strong,
And a holster that's been empty manys a days,
But then came Ireland's freedom, the one's to choose to lead them,
Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA.