Standard (EADGBE)
Word has come from Dublin City
She's lost her sweet angry boy
Born with a spirit his flesh could not contain
Brendan Behan is dead
No stranger to life, he lived bright enough
No stranger to the glass in his hand
No stranger to the cause he fought for all his life
Brendan Behan is dead
A hungry feeling came over me stealing
While the mice were feeding in my prison cell
And the old triangle went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal
On a fine spring evening as I lay dreaming
And the lad was weeping for his gal Sal
And the old triangle went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal
And the wind was sighing as the day was dying
And the lad still crying in his prison cell
And the old triangle went jingle bloody jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal
In the women's prison there are seventy women
And I wish it was with them that I did dwell
Then that old triangle could go jingle bloody jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal
Then that old triangle could go jingle bloody jangle
All along the banks of the royal canal
Ireland has lost her sweet angry singer
No longer his poems fine design
Will ring out in Gaelic, or sound through the Main
Brendan Behan is dead