What's the news, what's the news, oh, me bold Shelmalier,
With your long barrel guns of the sea,
Say what winds from the south send your messenger here,
With his hymn for the dawn for the free,
Goodly news, goodly news do I bring you to Forth,
Goodly news do I tell Bargy man,
For the boys march at morn from the south to the north,
Led by Kelly, the boy from Killane.

Tell me who is the giant with the gold curling hair,
He who rides at the head of your band,
Seven feet is his height with some inches to spare,
And he looks like a king in command?
Oh, me boy that's the pride of the bold Shelmalier,
Mongst the greatest of heroes a man,
So fling your beavers aloft and give three ringing cheers,
For John Kelly, the boy from Killane.

Enniscorthy's in flames and old Wexford is won,
And tomorrow the Barrow we will cross,
On the hill o'er the town we have planted a gun,
That will batter the gateway to Ross,
All the Forth men and Bargy men will march o'er the heath,
With brave Harvey to lead in the van,
But the foremost of all in the grim gap of death,
Will be Kelly, the boy from Killane.

But the gold sun of freedom lies darkened at Ross,
And is set by the Slaney's red wave,
And poor Wexford stripped naked, hung high on a cross,
With her heart pierced by traitors and knaves,
Glory-o, glory-o to the brave men who died,
For the cause of long down trodden man,
Glory-o to Mount Leinster's own darling and pride,
Dauntless Kelly, the boy from Killane,
Oh, dauntless Kelly, the boy from Killane.