well my name is mick ryan i m lyin still in a lonely spot near where i was killed by a red man defending his native land in the place that they call little big horn and i swear i did not see the irony when i rode with the seventh cavalry i thought that we fought for the land of the free when we rode from fort lincoln that morning and the band they played the garryowen brass was shining flags a flowin i swear if i had only known i d have wished that i d died back at vicksburg for my brother and me we had barely escaped from the hell that was ireland in forty eight two angry young lads who had learned how to hate but we loved the idea of amerikay and we cursed our cousins who fought and bled in their bloody coats of bloody red the sun never sets on the bloody dead of those who have chosen an empire but we d find a better life somehow in the land where no man has to bow it seemed right then and it seems right now that paddy he died for the union ah but michael he somehow got turned around he had stolen the dream that he thought he d found now i never will see that holy ground for i turned into something i hated and i m haunted by the garryowen drums a beating bugles blowin i swear if i had only known i d lie with my brother in vicksburg and the band they played that garryowen brass was shin flags a flowin i swear if i had only known i d lie with my brother at vicksburg