There's a sacred spot in Dublin,
A place called Arbour Hill,
Where sleep our noble martyrs,
But their message rings out still.

To you their message calling,
As it did that Easter day,
When they flew the flag of freedom,
And proclaimed the IRA.

They marched, those men in Dublin,
And for Ireland struck a blow,
They cherished it and raised it,
Over Dublin's GPO.

Traitors tried to sell the cause,
Traitors they may be,
For Connolly had only one in mind,
Old Ireland's liberty.

They followed Tone and Emmet,
And faced a martyrs grave,
We again must take their message,
If our nation we must save.

Six counties still subjected,
And are held by England still,
So wake up and show devotion,
To the men in Arbour Hill.

So wake up and show devotion,
To the men in Arbour Hill.