Among the hills of green Tyrone, an Irish soldier lies,
The youthful Martin Hurson who for Ireland gave his life,
To uphold his country's dignity he followed Bobby Sands,
On hunger strike for human rights till death he took his stand.

Through dreary days in that H-Block cage, my thoughts return to you,
Though beaten low by a savage foe, your memories saw me through,
In tortured nights your prayers brought light and soothed my fears and pain,
And though I'm gone you must fight on, till Ireland is free again.

Now gaunt and pale, my H-Block cell, my heart still burns the flame,
In fondest dreams I drilled it seems among your hills again,
A guiding light to lead the fight and free my green Tyrone,
The voicе of truth for Irish youth to crush the British throne.

Farewеll my native green Tyrone and you, sweet Bernadette,
My parents and companions brave, I'm watching over you yet,
Of Cappagh's braes, my childhood days, my memories I recall,
And so adieu to the land I love true, a chairde slán go fóil,
And so adieu to the land I love true, a chairde slán go foil.