This is the story of the borstal boy
Brendan from dublin, pride and joy
Drinker with writing problems, he said
A volunteer for I.R.A.
I am a rebel, i am a pot
I am the son of this land, just like Joyce
I’ll never make my toast to queen
Fellas, sing this song with me
Let’s celebrate to my last cup of sorrow
Let be delight ‘till the end of the night
Chased by the men i’ll be gone for tomorrow
I’ll never feel sorry for what i believe
Woke up in bridwell, next to my friends
I shot the pigs and this is my blame
Somehow the lord took pity on me
Here comes the screw for my comrade
Look at this man, soon to be hanged
Stare at his eyes and look at his hand
“i’m not shaking, i’ll never will
Brendan sing this song for me”
Now i’m back in this old town
I want to write my plays and fuck around
And if you walk off dorset street
Let’s sit for a shot and drink with me
He was a rebel, he was poet
This is the story of the borstal boy
He was a writer, he had a dream
Fellas sing this song for him
Brendan from dublin, pride and joy
Drinker with writing problems, he said
A volunteer for I.R.A.
I am a rebel, i am a pot
I am the son of this land, just like Joyce
I’ll never make my toast to queen
Fellas, sing this song with me
Let’s celebrate to my last cup of sorrow
Let be delight ‘till the end of the night
Chased by the men i’ll be gone for tomorrow
I’ll never feel sorry for what i believe
Woke up in bridwell, next to my friends
I shot the pigs and this is my blame
Somehow the lord took pity on me
Here comes the screw for my comrade
Look at this man, soon to be hanged
Stare at his eyes and look at his hand
“i’m not shaking, i’ll never will
Brendan sing this song for me”
Now i’m back in this old town
I want to write my plays and fuck around
And if you walk off dorset street
Let’s sit for a shot and drink with me
He was a rebel, he was poet
This is the story of the borstal boy
He was a writer, he had a dream
Fellas sing this song for him
Contributed by Dq82 - 2023/11/18 - 09:17
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from "This Is Home"
(a song dedicated to Brendan Behan)