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The Patriot ©

John J Turner Sen.
Glasgow, Scotland
1972

It was two-thirty when it went off
The roof and the walls caved in
It was me who planted that bomb
It is the only way we will win.

There are more of the invaders
Than there are of our loyal crew
You have to use guerilla tactics
When they are many and you are few.

I listened to the names on the radio
Of the injured and the dead
I was filled with the pain of doubt
Left with a feeling of dread.

Not one soldier was mentioned
And they the cause of the bother
My heart simply broke in two
When I heard the name of my mother.

Oh why did she go to that cafe
The one where the soldiers go
She should've stayed well away,
But then how was she to know?


It was my duty of that I am sure
On my character there is no spot
My mother and those others
Died at the hands of a patriot.


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