[ti:The foggy dew]
[ar:Sinead O'Connor]
[al:]

[offset:500]
[00:15.37]As down the glen one Easter morn
[00:24.58]To a city fair rode I,
[00:33.25]Their armed lines of marching men
[00:41.90]In squadrons passed me by.
[00:48.78]No pipe did hum, no battle drum
[00:58.18]Did sound its loud tattoo
[01:08.98]But the Angelus' bells o'er the Liffey's wells
[01:20.36]Rang out in the foggy dew.
[01:33.69]Right proudly high in Dublin town
[01:38.73]Hung they out a flag of war.
[01:44.02]'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
[01:49.46]Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
[01:54.75]And from the plains of Royal Meath
[02:00.27]Strong men came hurrying through;
[02:05.70]While Brittania's Huns with their long-range guns
[02:11.05]Sailed in through the foggy dew.
[02:27.21]The bravest fell, and the requiem bell
[02:32.43]Rang mournfully and clear
[02:37.53]For those who died that Easter-tide
[02:42.96]In the springing of the year.
[02:48.10]While the world did gaze with deep amaze
[02:53.46]At those fearless men but few
[02:58.61]Who bore the fight that freedom's light
[03:03.91]Might shine through the foggy dew.
And back through the glen I rode again
And my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men
Whom I never shall see more
But to and fro
In my dreams I go 
And I kneel and pray for you
For slavery fled 
Oh, glorious dead
When you fell in the foggy dew