"Patriot Game" genre: Celtic
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	This song was written by Dominic Behan, brother of Brendan. It tells the story of Fergal O'Hanlon from Ballybay, Co Monaghan, who tried to abolish the border between the Six Counties and the Republic. He was killed during the Brookborough attack at the age of 17. The song has become world famous. It is undoubtedly one of the best ballads ever to come out of the Irish struggles.
	MP3.com CD: Soul of a Harper - buy it! CD: Soul of a Harper   Label: Mage Records Credits: words Dominic Behan, music traditional
	Story Behind the Song During my first year with the Brobdingnagian Bards, we was introduced to a wide variety of music. One of the first tapes someone lent me was a tape of I.R.B. tunes. Well the very first task we had to figure out was what I.R.B. stood for? Irish Republican Brotherhood. The Irish Republican Brotherhood was formed on Saint Patrick's Day in 1858. It was an underground organization designed to remove the English from Ireland. Admittedly, I am completely opposed to much of the current aggression taking place in Ireland by the IRA. I do not believe anyone should meet violence with violence. It's counter-productive and fosters hate in people. But I am a strong proponent of preserving songs. Bob Dylan rewrote the lyrics to this song and used it as should've been written--as an anti-war song. Death is the only thing a patriot can truly expect from a war. Lyrics Come all ye young rebels, and list while I sing, For the love of one's country is a terrible thing. It banishes fear with the speed of a flame, And it makes us all part of the patriot game. My name is O'Hanlon, and I've just turned sixteen. My home is in Monaghan, and where I was weaned I learned all my life cruel England's to blame, So now I am part of the patriot game. This Ireland of ours has too long been half free. Six counties lie under John Bull's tyranny. But still De Valera is greatly to blame For shirking his part in the Patriot game. They told me how Connolly was shot in his chair, His wounds from the fighting all bloody and bare. His fine body twisted, all battered and lame They soon made me part of the patriot game. It's nearly two years since I wandered away With the local battalion of the bold IRA, For I read of our heroes, and wanted the same To play out my part in the patriot game. And now as I lie here, my body all holes I think of those traitors who bargained in souls And I wish that my rifle had given the same To those Quislings who sold out the patriot game.

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