The comfort of the light
Is not which one they feel
In the kingdom of our glass cities
Without warmth, without light, what is life?
In the shadow of our kingdom, they lie
As winters comes the cold begins to bite
One, after the other, they start to die
In our outrage and despair, we cannot even cry
All is not yet lost
Our grief will be our weapon
Our struggle will ignite
The people of Ireland
We will fly
On wings of freedom
Towards a Republic, of liberty and life.