<\/p>\n
A schoolboy running errands\u2014a milkman doing his round
\nA bustling city hard at work\u2014just like other Irish towns
\nKids at play, on a summer day, beneath a faultless azure sky
\nAt the end of play on that fateful day, the question asked was\u2014Why?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Just weeks before, Hawks slammed the door, unprepared to take a chance
\nTo end the bitter cycle, Now this was their response
\nIn pretence they led us to believe their guns would cease to fire
\nBut, their devious deed, sowed rotten seeds, plunged us deeper in the mire.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
One hour if madness\u201422 blasts–had a devastating effect
\nNo warning bombs, went on and on, and left the city wrecked
\nThe dead lay scattered all around, the wounded screamed in pain
\nWith this cowardly act\u2014of little tact\u2014what could they hope to gain?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Bus boys\u2014a Mother\u2014a clerics son\u2014ripped apart and maimed
\nThey denied at first and to make things worse tried to shift the blame
\nWhile jeering crowds in hatred loud did mock the fallen prey
\nDid they feel proud\u2014heads unbowed\u2014on that sunny July day?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Four decades on\u2014unification gone\u2014lost\u2014a distant dream
\nCan those who gave the orders sleep and fail to hear the screams?
\nIs their conscience clear\u2014or say without fear\u2014they gained what they had sought
\nThe memory of their victims say\u2014We died in the name of What?<\/p>\n
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