What's the news, what's the news, oh, me bold Shelmalier,
With your long barrel gun of the sea,
Say what wind from the south moves this messenger here,
With the hymn of the dawn for the free,
Goodly news, goodly news do I bring youth of Forth,
Goodly news shall you hear Bargy man,
For the boys march at dawn from the south to the north,
Led by Kelly, the boy from Killane.

Tell me who is that giant with the gold curling hair,
He who rides at the head of your band,
Seven feet is his height and some inches to spare,
And he looks like a king in command?
Ah, me lads that's the pride of the bold Shelmaliers,
Mongst the greatest of heroes a man,
Fling your beavers aloft and give three ringing cheers,
For John Kelly, the boy from Killane.

Enniscorthy's in flames and old Wexford is won,
And the Barrow tomorrow we will cross,
On a hill o'er the town we have planted a gun,
That will batter the gateway to Ross,
All the Forth men and Bargy men march o'er the heath,
With brave Harvey to lead on the van,
But the foremost of all in the grim gap of death,
Will be Kelly, the boy from Killane.

But the gold sun of freedom grew darkened at Ross,
And it set by the Slaney's red waves,
And poor Wexford stripped naked, hung high on a cross,
With her heart pierced by traitors and slaves,
Glory-o, glory-o to her brave sons who died,
For the cause of long down trodden man,
Glory-o to Mount Leinster's own darling and pride,
Dauntless Kelly, the boy from Killane,
Dauntless Kelly, aye, the boy from Killane.