[Verse]
There's a uniform that's hanging in what's known as father's room,
A uniform so simple in its style,
It's got no braid of gold or silk, no hat with feathered plume,
Me mother has preserved it all the while.

One day she made me try it on, the way she plied for years,
"In memory of your father, dear" she said,
Oh, when she put the Sam Browne on, she was smiling through her tears,
She placed the broad black brimmer on me head.

[Chorus]
It's just a broad black brimmer, ribbons frayed and torn,
By the careless whisk of manys a mountain breeze,
An old trench coat, so battle-stained and worn,
And breeches almost threadbare at the knees.

A Sam Browne belt with a buckle big and strong,
And a holster that's been empty manys a days, (But not for long!)
Oh, when men claim Ireland's freedom, the one she'll choose to lead them,
Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA.