My song for you this eveningIt’s not to make you sadNor for adding to the sorrowsOf this troubled northern landBut lately I’ve been thinkingAnd it just wont leave my mindI’ll tell you of two friends one timeWho were both good friends of mineIsaac he was ProtestantAnd Sean was Catholic bornBut it never made a differenceFor the friendship it was strongAnd sometimes in the eveningWhen we heard the sound of drumsWe said it wont divide usWe will always be as oneThere were roses, rosesThere were rosesAnd the tears of a people ran togetherIt was on a Sunday morningWhen the awful news came roundAnother killing had been doneJust outside Newry TownWe knew that Isaac danced up thereWe knew he liked the bandBut when we heard that he was deadWe just could not understandThe fear it filled the countrysideThere was fear in every homeWhen late at night a car cameProwling round the Ryan RoadA Catholic would be killed tonightTo even up the scoreOh Christ, it’s young MacDonaldThey have taken from the doorThere were roses, rosesThere were rosesAnd the tears of a people ran togetherNow I don’t know where the moral isOr where this song should endBut I wonder just how many warsAre fought between good friendsAnd those who give the ordersAre not the ones to dieIt’s Scott and young MacDonaldAnd the likes of you and IThere were roses, rosesThere were rosesAnd the tears of a people ran together