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

And as they moved along the street up to the barrack door,
They scorned the dangers they might face, 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 South from Garryowen.

But the sergeant spied their daring plan, he spied them through the door,
The sten guns and the rifles pealed, a hail of death did roar,
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 they will hear the seagull's cry, o'er the murmuring Shannon side,
For they fell beneath that northern sky, brave Hanlon by his side,
They has gone to join that gallant band of Plunkett, Pearse and Tone,
Another martyr for old Ireland Seán South from Garryowen,
Another martyr for old Ireland Seán South from Garryowen.