When I get Out Ciaran Murphy

4 Nov

DEDICATED TO ALL POLITICAL PRISONERS, a great song!!!

Arms stretched out in a passive way, one more strip search to begin the day, pig thick warders carry out the governors orders without question.
And they feel so hard in their boiler suits, their foot long battons and their Nazi boots and they try to break me with their dirty looks but im not biting.

Chorus

Instead i tell myself you wont be here forever, one fine day im going home, and well beyond these walls the wire mesh and cameras, ill catch up with them alone.

But they stare me out like the living dead, they let their sniffer dogs go through my bed and the governor jokes that heel be better fed than any prisoner.
They make their living making my life hell, dont luck for justice in a 9 foot cell, comply at once boy or weel hit the bell and youll be battoned.

Chorus

Ive got 5 years down and ive one to go, and ive felt emotions that youll never know but depression passes now my anger grows with every minute.
And these hard men screws that control my life, that search my children and disgrace my wife, theyre gonna have a run in with my stanley knife when im a free man.

Im gonna hunt them down for every single minute, theyll reret it wait and see, every smart remark and grim humiliation, every time they tortured me.

When the screw comes home from his local bar, ill be waiting for him in a little car, and ill put the right foot on it and the fucker ll hit the bonett, one screw over.
When he’s walking home from the greyhound track, heel feel my hammer bouncing off his back and the grim frustration that i felt in isolation will be settled.

Chorus

When the governors out in his Sunday best, he’el feel my stanley knife accross his chest and my ten hole DM boots will do the rest, thats for Jimbo *.
When he turns the key to his private flar ill be waiting for him with a bassball batt and he’ll feel the anger of the anger of the death cell hanger he tormented.

I used to tell myself dont let them make you bitter, cos then theyve got a hold on you, but this country lets them get away with murder so murder’s what im gonna do.

See ive watched brave men driven half insane as they left their children standing in the rain, i heard young women screaming out in pain in isolation.
And i heard screws laugh as they cut the rope, of a young dead addict who gave up all hope, they only caught him with a lump of dope and took remission.
Chords
E/D/G/A
C-Am/E/F/Am/E
Insight
A prisoner plans revenge on those who hold him.
* Jimbo McDonald was beaten to death by warders in Maghaberry prison punishment unit, 1996.
Remember Darkie Hughes
from ‘when we take control’
Oh Darkie Dear, we used to hear you speak of days gone by, of the awful costs and the friends you lost and why they chose to die.
Ive heard of hell in a H Block cell, the things they put you through, so tell us why before you die, why you did those things youd do.

Well son i faught for freedom and the dignity of man, for a land what we could carve from stone and our destiny we’d plan.
I put my faith in comrades first and leaders only then, and the dogs we rose from the Divis streets, like Gods and fighting men.

We lashed out at the enemy in those rainy Belfast streets, we suffered too we lost our best, but we learned from our defeats, with bombs we changed all the Belfast maps, for we knew no other route, and when the English coffins passed, like comrades we’d salute.

They came for me one morning and they battered me with rage, they kicked me around their narrow streets and they dragged me to their cage, where i lived with Toddler Tolan and the gallant Bobby Sands, we dreamt of Irish Freedom there, we’d sing and make our plans.

But barely one year later i escaped into the night, and i didnt lie low on the run, sure i had a war to fight, i lived in leafy suburbs where, the enemies police dwell, and in the early morning i arose and gave them hell.

But hunted night and morning i was captured once again, and this time to the H Blocks i, returned to tortured men, and labelled now as gangsters by, the servents of the crown, we wrapped ourselves in blankets and prepared to face them down.

And son i hope you never feel, the pain that we went through, though freezing cold in our own waste, we were battered black and blue, i heard brave men cry out to God, i held them as they cried, i felt my heart burst out my skin, as our hunger strikers died.

And when my war was over i returned to Divis tower, and it hurt to see my comrades change as they scrambled to take power, instead i worked on a building site for a hundred pounds a week, and i asked myself what was it all for, if my neighbours were still meek.

So son ill leave you with this thought and ill pass into the night, i hope you know that i did my best, i did what i thought was right, i hope that God will understand if what i did was wrong, stay true to you and the republic too then forget me and move on.Chords
dadgad tuning (improvised)Insight
A humble take on the life and human feelings of late IRA legend Brendan Hughes.

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One Response to “When I get Out Ciaran Murphy”

  1. jack August 8, 2014 at 10:27 am #

    Thanks for leaving the lyrics to this great song. There were a couple of typos so I went ahead and fixed it up.

    Arms stretched out in a passive way, one more strip search to begin the day, pig thick warders carry out the governor’s orders without question.
    And they feel so hard in their boiler suits, their foot long batons and their Nazi boots, and they try to break me with their dirty looks, but I’m not biting.

    Chorus

    Instead I tell myself you wont be here forever, one fine day you’re going home, and well beyond these walls the wire mesh and cameras, ill catch up with them alone.

    But they stare me out like the living dead, they let their sniffer dogs go through my bed, and the governor jokes that they’ll be better fed than any prisoner.
    They make their living making my life hell, dont look for justice in a 9 foot cell, comply at once, boy, or we’ll hit the bell and you’ll be battoned.

    Chorus

    I’ve got 5 years down and I’ve one to go, and I’ve felt emotions that you’ll never know but depression passes and my anger grows with every minute.
    And these hard men screws that control my life, that search my children and disgrace my wife, they’re gonna have a run in with my Stanley knife when I’m a free man.

    Im gonna hunt them down for every single minute, theyll regret it, wait and see, for every smart remark and grim humiliation, every time they tortured me.

    When the screw comes home from his local bar, I’ll be waiting for him in a little car, and I’ll put the right foot on it and the fucker’ll hit the bonnet, one screwed over.
    When he’s walking home from the greyhound track, he’ll feel my hammer bouncing on his back and the grim frustration that I felt in isolation will be settled.

    Chorus

    When the governor’s out in his Sunday best, he’ll feel my Stanley knife accross his chest and my ten hole DM boot will do the rest, that’s for Jimbo*.
    When he turns the key to his private flat, I’ll be waiting for him with a baseball bat, and he’ll feel the anger of that death cell hanger he tormented.

    I used to tell myself dont let them make you bitter, then they’ve got a hold on you, but this country lets them get away with murder, so murder’s what I’m gonna do.

    See I’ve watched brave men driven half insane as they left their children standing in the rain, I heard young women screaming out in pain in isolation.
    And I heard screws laugh as they cut the rope, of a young dead addict who gave up all hope, they only caught him with a lump of dope and took remission.

    Chorus

    Im gonna hunt them down for every single minute, theyll regret it, wait and see, for every smart remark and grim humiliation, every time they tortured me.

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