Irish Song Lyrics 
from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
Birmingham Six Shane MacGowan 
There were six men in Birmingham In Guildford there's four That were picked up and tortured And framed by the law And the filth got promotion But they're still doing time For being Irish in the wrong place And at the wrong time 
In Ireland they'll put you away in the Maze In England they'll keep you for several long days God help you if ever you're caught on these shores And the coppers need someone And they walk through that door 
You'll be counting years First five, then ten Growing old in a lonely hell Round the yard and the stinking cell From wall to wall, and back again 
A curse on the judges, the coppers and screws Who tortured the innocent, wrongly accused, For the price of promotion And justice to sell May the judged be their judges when they rot down in hell 
May the whores of the empire lie awake in their beds And sweat as they count out the sins on their heads While over in Ireland eight more men lie dead Kicked down and shot in the back of the head