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Wednesday, December 31, 2008

The Foggy Dew. (Performed by Sinead O'Connor and the Chieftains).

To all the imperialistic, neo-imperialistic, colonial, neo-colonial, neo-con or neo-liberal dictatorial, militaristic empire-seeking resource-stealing presidents, prime ministers, kings and preachermen and governments and countries in the world who are now attacking, invading, occupying, bombing, blowing up, murdering people in other countries in an effort to take over, control, claim their land as your own: GIVE IT UP. It won't work. It never has. Go home and take your guns with you.

The men who are fighting, being kidnapped tortured and murdered, the women and children being blown to pieces today in Iraq, Afghanistan, Gaza, will soon have songs written about them, and the patriots in their countries will memorize those songs and teach them to their children and grandchildren and 100 years from now they will still proudly be singing those songs, with lyrics like this:

And the world did gaze in deep amaze
At those fearless men and true
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew.

Peace in 2009. U.S. Out of Iraq and Afghanistan. End the Wars now.



The song "The Foggy Dew" commemorates the Easter Rebellion of 1916.

'Twas down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
When Ireland's line of marching men
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey's swell
Rang out in the foggy dew.

Right proudly high over Dublin town
They hung out a flag of war.
Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sudel Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through;
While Brittania's sons with their long-range guns
Sailed in from the foggy dew.

'Twas England bade our wild geese go
That small nations might be free.
Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves
On the fringe of the grey North Sea.
But had they died by Pearse's side
Or fought with Valera true,
Their graves we'd keep where the Fenians sleep
'Neath the shroud of the foggy dew.

The bravest fell, and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the springing of their years.
And the world did gaze in deep amaze
At those fearless men and true
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew.

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