By Christy Moore
I’m ninety miles from Dublin Town I’m in a H-Block cell
To help you understand my plight this story now I’ll tell
I’m on the Blanket Protest my efforts must not fail
I’m joined by men and women in ‘The Kesh’ and Armagh Gaol
It all began one morning I was dragged to Castlereagh
And though it was three years ago it seems like yesterday
Three days kicked and beaten and then I was forced to sign
Confessions that convicted me of deeds that were not mine
Sentenced in a Diplock court my protest it began
I could not wear that prison gear I was a Blanket Man
I’ll not accept your status I’ll not be criminalised
That’s the issue in ‘The Blocks’ for which we give our lives
Over there in London how they’d laugh and sneer
If they could only make us wear their loathsome prison gear
Prisoners of War is what we are and that we will remain
The Blanket Protest can not end till our status we regain
I’ve been beaten round the romper room because I won’t say sir
Frogmarched down the landing and dragged back by the hair
I’ve suffered degradation humility and pain
Still my spirit does not falter, British torture is in vain
I’ve been held in scalding water my skin with deck scrubs torn
Scratched and cut from head to foot and thrown out on the floor
I’ve suffered mirror searches and probed by drunken bears
I’ve listened to my comrades’ scream and sob their lonely prayers
Now with the news that’s coming in our Protest must not fail
For now we’re joined by thirty girls across in Armagh Gaol
Pay attention Irish men and Irish women too
Show the Free State government their silence will not do
Though its ninety miles to Dublin town it seems so far away
There’s more attention to our plight in the USA
Now you’ve heard the story of this living hell
Remember ninety miles away I am in my H-Block cell.