Each Dollar A Bullet - Stiff Little Fingers

Oh, it must seem so romantic

When the fighting’s over there

And they’re passing 'round the shamrock

And you’re all filled up with tears

«For the love of dear old Ireland»

That you’ve never even seen

You throw in twenty dollars

And sing, 'Wearing of the Green'

Each dollar a bullet

Each victim someone’s son

And Americans kill Irishmen

As surely as if they fired the gun

Now you’ve never stood on Belfast’s streets

And heard the bombs explode

Or hid beneath the blankets

When there’s riots down the road

No, you’ve never had your best friend die

Or lost a favorite son

But you’ll stand there and tell us

Just what we’re doing wrong

Each false word a bullet

Each victim someone’s son

And Englishmen kill Irishmen

As surely as if they fired the gun

From the minute that you’re born

You’re told to hate the other side

«They're not like us, they’re not the same

We know because we’re right?

But can’t you see we’re all the same

There is no right and wrong

Why can’t we stop and realize

We’ve hated too much, too long

Each old lie a bullet

Each victim someone’s son

And Irishmen kill Irishmen

As surely as if they fired the gun

How can you convince yourself

That what you do is right?

When people are dying there

Night after night

Don’t you ever wonder why it still goes on?

The hopes and fears and all the tears

Are buried in your ground

Buried in your ground

Each rumor a bullet

Each victim someone’s son

And careless talk kills Irishmen

As surely as if words fired the gun

Well, it’s lasted for so long now

And so many have died

It’s such a part of my own life

Yet it leaves me mystified

How a people so intelligent

Friendly, kind and brave

Can throw themselves so willingly

Into an open grave

Each new day a bullet

Each victim someone’s son

And ignorance kills Irishmen

As surely as if we fired the gun