A Prisoner’s Christmas The Irish Brigade

On the motorway, just the other night
Some lights were flickering off to my right
My little son, sitting by my side
Asked, "Are those fairy lights for Christmastide?"

[Chorus]
Those are not lights for a Christmas tree
That's dark Long Kesh, son, you'll grow to see
That Christmas cheer does not mean a thing
In Magilligan, Armagh or a H-Block wing

This is a time for festivities
For party games and for families
But many homes, they are sad tonight
They whisper someone's name by the candlelight

[Chorus]
Those are not lights for a Christmas tree
That's dark Long Kesh, son, you'll grow to see
That Christmas cheer does not mean a thing
In Magilligan, Armagh, or a H-Block wing

It is the season of good will
And here in Ireland we believe that still
I hate no man for his faith or creed;
We only want our sons and our daughters freed