Shane O'Neill

Tara Holtea - Shane O'Neill

Old Tyrone's hills were summer green

Unconquered still by Tudor queen

MacDonnell bad brave Shane to come

And greeted him with pipe and drum

Laughter in the banquet hall

The minstrels sang the braves of old

The wine cup circled 'round the room

As Shane O'Neill he neared his doom

Shane Shane Shane O'Neill

Strong as oak

True as steel

No queen of all could make you kneel

Ulster's prince was Shane O'Neill

Darkness came along the glen

The shadows hid MacDonnell's men

With drawn swords they stood around

And stabbed O'Neill onto the ground

Summer comes along glen dump

The sea is bright with morning sun

And on a hill are cairn guns bare

And Shane O'Neill lies ever there

Shane Shane Shane O'Neill

Strong as oak

True as steel

No queen of all could make you kneel

Ulster's prince was Shane O'Neill

Shane Shane Shane O'Neill

Strong as oak

True as steel

No queen of all could make you kneel

Ulster's prince was Shane O'Neill