People of plight
You have fought for the right
To rid all your country's injustice
In a cold prison cell
You serve out your hell
Not knowing the sweet taste of freedom
But tomorrow will come
With the break of a dawn
And winter will change into spring
Then we can look for the new brighter things
When our hopes and our dreams will come true

'Twas not long ago
In a march you did show
Those old and bad ways must be changing
But you met with ill fate
Those people of hate
With their sticks and their stones
They were ragin'
But the cold winds of change
Will come with the morn'
Or the wind will change to a storm
And if the trees
Don't bend in the breeze
Then they surely must bend in a storm
Word for word
And sword for a sword
Is the cruel way that life has been showing
In a city of hate
It is never too late
To see friendship and love start a-growing
But the damage is done
To Ireland's sons
A flower won't grow on a stone
And blossoms won't grow
On the streets of our land
Till the right seeds of love
They are sowed

Children of fear
The time it is here
That our land had a change of good fortune
For the struggle and fight
Has gone to the night
And has been there for many a long year
It is nourished with thoughts
Of the courage you've shown
And our ship is not lost to the sea
And to the world
Let our struggles be known
Till our prisoners of hate
Are set free