'Twas a cold and grey November morn, as I left Belfast town,
In a cold and lonely prison van, for Long Kesh I was bound,
'Cause my spirit was unbroken and my heart was still un-found,
Why, I knew that i'd soon be with the men behind the wire.

When the judge had passed my sentence and the warder took me down,
I cried out no surrender bless the red hand and the crown,
But grant me just one favour, that is my one desire,
Please let me serve my sentence with the men behind the wire.

There were many things so strange to me and many more I knew,
His only cry was Loyalty to the old red white and blue,
And the love for dear old Ulster, Even in the darkest hour,
He'd shine with them these loyal men, the men behind the wire.

And when this war is over and our victory is won,
Let us not forget the sacrifice made by these loyal sons,
They were staunch and true for me and you so lift your glasses higher,
Where would we have been without them, the men behind the wire

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