There's a place just outside Lisburn,
A place that's known to few,
Where a group of Irish rebels,
Are held by Faulkner's crew,
They are forced to live in cages,
Like the inmates of Bellevue,
But the spirit of 1916,
Will always see them through.

The men in this vile place,
They come from far and near,
Some from the Derry Bogside,
And Omagh town so near,
And some of them from Belfast,
From the Markets and the Bone,
From the narrow streets of Ardoyne,
And all around Tyrone.

On that black day in August,
When Faulkner showed his hand,
He thought that by internment,
He would break our gallant band,
But the boys of Ballymurphy,
How they showed the way that night,
And they taught those English soldiers,
How Irish men could fight.

Long Kesh has shown to everyone,
This system must be broke,
Ardoyne, the New Lodge and the Falls,
Will see the system choke,
No more the Special Powers Act,
Those fiends they will invoke,
And Long Kesh will be the U-Stone,
On which the system broke.

A word, now Irish people,
No matter where you are,
Just remember our brave rebels,
In Long Kesh this year,
And by civil disobedience,
Or any other way,
Let's make a stand until the day,
Each one of them are free.