The secret purge

Oh racking cry of the hunger song
the lark still knows your tune
the blackbird saw that face of death
as harvest went to ruin

Oh Erin's hills your beauty speaks
of a land that once was free
untainted by imperial brute
who covets all he sees

Oh sons of Boru betrayed and banished
the purveyors spewed their lies
cleansed their hands of evil done
conceit was not disguised

Trevalyan's swine endeavoured most
to cleanse us from the land
starved and exiled our story lived
to spite opression's hand

How well their press concealed our plight
but the truth does seldom die
on coffin ships a legacy grew
to take a new world by surprise

How Anglo Saxons soon forget
woes which beset their name
lest not forget their secret purge
and end pursuit of blame.