Tim O'brien - Mick Ryan's Lament

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Well my name is Mick Ryan, I'm lyin still 

In a lonely spot near where I was killed 

By a red man defending his native land 

In the place that they call Little Big Horn 



And I swear I did not see the irony 

When I rode with the Seventh Cavalry 

I thought that we fought for the land of the free 

When we rode from Fort Lincoln that morning 



And the band they played the Garryowen 

Brass was shining, flags a flowin 

I swear if I had only known 

I'd have wished that I'd died back at Vicksburg 



For my brother and me, we had barely escaped 

From the hell that was Ireland in forty eight 

Two angry young lads who had learned how to hate 

But we loved the idea of Amerikay 



And we cursed our cousins who fought and bled 

In their bloody coats of bloody red 

The sun never sets on the bloody dead 

Of those who have chosen an empire 



But we'd find a better life somehow 

In the land where no man has to bow 

It seemed right then and it seems right now 

That Paddy he died for the union 



Ah, but Michael he somehow got turned around 

He had stolen the dream that he thought he'd found 

Now I never will see that holy ground 

For I turned into something I hated 



And I'm haunted by the Garryowen 

Drums a beating, bugles blowin' 

I swear if I had only known 

I'd lie with my brother in Vicksburg 



And the band they played that Garryowen 

Brass was shin, flags a flowin' 

I swear if I had only known, I'd lie with 

my brother at Vicksburg 















		
			



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