For What Died the Sons of Róisín? The Dubliners

For what died the sons of Róisín, was it fame?
For what died the sons of Róisín, was it fame?
For what flowed Ireland's blood in rivers
That began when Brian chased the Dane
And did not cease nor has not ceased
With the brave sons of ´16
For what died the sons of Róisín, was it fame?

For what died the sons of Róisín, was it greed?
For what died the sons of Róisín, was it greed?
Was it greed that drove Wolfe Tone
To a pauper's death in a cell of cold wet stone?
Will German, French or Dutch inscribe the epitaph of Emmet?
When we've sold enough of Ireland to be but strangers in it
For what died the sons of Róisín, was it greed?

To whom do we owe our allegiance today?
To whom do we owe our allegiance today?
To those brave men who fought and died
That Róisín live again with pride?
Her sons at home to work and sing
Her youth to dance and make her valleys ring
Or the faceless men who for Mark and a Dollar
Betray her to the highest bidder
To whom do we owe our allegiance today?