Come listen all you Irish men, a story I relate,
I'll tell you of three martyrs and who left to you their fate,
For on a bridge that borders county Derry and Tyrone,
There took place a massacre, the likes we've never known.

It was on a Monday morning, it was on the 3rd of June,
The year was 1991, the time five hours from noon,
Lawrence McNally, Michael Ryan and Tony Doris were the three,
It was their life's ambition to set their country free.

But as they approached that village, that was there blood to soak,
They were outnumbered ten to one in that planters den called Coagh,
These men they fought so bravely oh, this it's safe to say,
For these were gallant soldiers of the Provisional IRA.

Those murdering English soldiers must one day be made to pay,
For they burned those rebel corpses, while in the village square they lay,
Lawrence McNally and Michael Ryan they were natives of Ardboe,
Tony Doris from Coalisland they did not fear the foe.

The people of Ballinderry, Murntown and of Ardboe,
Should not be a wondering why these men to Coagh did go,
For they could not stand idlily by while their people were shot dead,
And they hoped that by their actions we could live in peace instead.

Who could forget Pete Ryan, his memory imprinted on our mind,
You'll search in any county a soldier like this to find,
For he fought them in the valley, among the hills and in the dales,
And he fought them in the city street when he escaped from Crumlin Jail.

Lawrence McNally came from Annaghmore, his age was 38,
I bet that he was smiling on the day he met his fate,
From Lough Neagh to the border his exploits were of renown,
He was loved by his own people and hated by the Crown.

Tony Doris from Coalisland was the youngest of the three,
It was a boyhood yearning to see his country free,
It was part of Tony's rearing, oppression to detest,
He was a fearless soldier, Tony was the best.

The sad story now is ending but on question still remains,
And until we find the answer, these men have died in vain,
For suspicion now it hovers like a cloud of dark and gloom,
Was it plans foretold for Judas gold sent these men to their doom.