On a far off August day, cold young men in ambush lay
On a roadside on a hill where flowers grow
So much hate for one so young, who was right and who was wrong
Though a thousand years may pass we’ll never know

Candles dripping blood, they placed beside your shoulders
Rosary beads like teardrops on your fingers
Friends and comrades standin by, in their grief they wonder why
Michael in our hour of need you had to go

And when evening twilight came, gentle fell the August rain
Oh but you lay still and silent on the ground
As we hung our heads in prayer, in our sorrow and dispare
We wondered was it friend or foe who shot you down

Now the flame that you held high, when you called out to the sky
To end this senseless killing and this shame
Has now passed to other hands and is carried through the land
By some not fit to even speak your name


This song about the tragic killing of Michael Collins during the Civil War was written and recorded by Johnny McEvoy

Song Clip