[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 has no fancy bit of gold, no hat with feathered plume,
Me mother has preserved it all the while.

One day she made me try it on, a wish of mine for years,
"In memory of your father, Séan", she said,
And as I put the Sam Browne on, she was smiling through her tears,
As she placed the wide black brimmer on me head.

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

A Sam Browne belt with a buckle big and strong,
And a holster that's been empty manys the day,
When men claim Ireland's freedom, the one she'll choose to lead them,
Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA.

[Verse]
Twas the uniform was worn by me father years ago,
When he reached me mother's homestead on the run,
Twas the uniform me he wore in that little church below,
When Old Father Mac, he blessed the pair as one.

And after truce and treaty at the parting of the way,
He wore it when he marched out with the rest,
And when they bore his body down that rugged heather braes,
They placed the wide black brimmer on his breast.

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

A Sam Browne belt with a buckle big and strong,
And a holster that's been empty manys the day,
When men claim Ireland's freedom, the one she'll choose to lead them,
Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA.

[Outro]
When men claim Ireland's freedom, the one she'll choose to lead them,
Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA.