The Men Behind The Ire
Isn’t it strange to be reading and hearing of the many republicans who feel as if they have been shafted by the modern day Provisional/Sinn Fein. Accusations levelled at SF include—misleading the general Nationalist population—selling out—becoming West Brits under Stormont’s roof—all adding up to the allegations of treason. Gerry Adams and his cohorts are blamed for leading their constituents and followers a merry dance and basically using them for their own selfish ends. How ironic is this? Over forty years ago many young men from the Loyalist working classes were duped by their vociferous sabre rattling representatives who marched the masses right to the top of the hill–but luckily remained at the bottom themselves. The moniker—The Grand Old Duke of York—was duly bestowed upon one of those most actively involved in this practice.
The Men Behind The Ire
They stood on high to pontificate
And decreed to lead us forth
With their jingoistic mandates
Charted a considered course.
Dog collared—or policies in hand
At ease in lording masses
Deceitful, devious scheming plans
To command the under classes.
Disdain, contempt and disregard
Condescending to the lower grades
Empty rhetoric the guarantee
That would lead to our own Hades.
Stirring oratories help
To compel the common man
And gives them moral permit
To support the Masters’ plan
They swore to fight—to go to war
Until all OUR blood was done
To battle and to lead the way
And boldly lead us on.
And lead us on they did and more
Down a bloody path of no return
Too late we realise the artifice
A valuable lesson slowly learned.
No bars around those Ivory Towers
No guards to keep them there
No loss of freedom for those cowards
Just contempt beyond compare.
Duplicitous knaves escaped their fate
—-And refuse yet to explain
Of how they deceived a generation
With their deadly immoral games.
