[Verse]
In Croke Park, one Sunday evening, drunken forces of the Crown,
Turned their guns upon the Irish and like dogs they cut them down
A gallant Gael from Tipperary, as he played his native game,
Was laid low by British bullets, Michael Hogan was his name.

Little known to Tipperary or the Dublin Gaels who played,
That the murder gang from England to Croke Park were on their way,
Till an aeroplane it hovered o o'er that quiet yet tranquil scene
And the spray or rifle bullet showered the crowd on Hill '16.

[Chorus]
Take him home to Tipperary, to that silent lonely grave,
Take him home to Tipperary, there to rest among the brave.
Men like Hogan love their country, it was cruel that fatal day,
When the mighty British Empire tried to smash the GAA.

[Verse]
When the Tans jumped from their lorries, those ruthless thugs of high renown,
With their rifles at the ready our young hero to gun down,
Every year the Gaels assemble at that site of that sad scene,
When the rosary's recited for our one and only Queen.

The name of Michael Hogan and the fame of Dublin town,
The shame of Bloody Sunday, where our martyrs were gunned down,
In memory of our hero is the mighty Hogan Stand,
The playing of the music of the marching Artane Band.

[Chorus]
Take him home to Tipperary, to that silent lonely grave,
Take him home to Tipperary, there to rest among the brave.
Men like Hogan love their country, it was cruel that fatal day,
When the mighty British Empire tried to smash the GAA.

[Verse]
Now you Gaels from over Ireland, when Croke Park you will attend,
Give a thought for Bloody Sunday and let this little prayer ascend,
It's not to much I'm asking, for our heroes passed away,
For all those the British murdered on that bleak November day.

When your cheering on your county, up the Banner, up the Dubs,
Or your following the fortunes of your football and hurling club,
Spare a through for all old Grangemockler, their he rest among the brave,
Spare a thought for Tipperary and his silent lonely grant

[Chorus]
Take him home to Tipperary, to that silent lonely grave,
Take him home to Tipperary, there to rest among the brave.
Men like Hogan love their country, it was cruel that fatal day,
When the mighty British Empire tried to smash the GAA,
Ye, the mighty British Empire tried to smash the GAA.