Was on a dreary New Year's Day as the shades of night came down,
A lorry load of volunteers approached a border town,
There were men from Dublin and from Cork, Fermanagh and Tyrone,
But their leader was a Limerick man, Seán South from Garryowen.

And as they moved along the street up to the barracks door,
Well, they scorned the danger they might meet, or the fate that lay in store,
They were fighting for old Ireland, to claim their very own,
And the foremost of that gallant band was Seán South from Garryowen.

But the sergeant spoiled their daring plan, he spied them through the door,
Well, the sten guns and the rifles too, a hail of death did pour,
And when that awful night was o'er, two men lay as cold as stone,
There was one from near the border and one from Garryowen.

No more he will hear the seagull's cry, o'er the murmuring Shannon tide,
For he fell beneath a northern sky, O'Hanlon by his side,
They have gone to join that gallant band of Plunkett, Pearse and Tone,
Another martyr for old Ireland was Seán South from Garryowen.