On the slopes of the Creggan one morning in May,
Four lads left their base with hearts young and gay,
Their cause was for freedom a cause undenied,
And that foreign oppressor they went to defy.
While patroling our streets they met with the foe,
And with guns at the ready our lads had a go.

So we`ll raise up our hands and we`ll curse that British hand,
Who tore out the very hearts of men who dared to cross their path,
But my heart is broke in two, won`t you tell me what to do,
They couldn`t stop poor George and Pop and they`ll not stop me and you.

For the place it went silent when the shooting died down,
Two young lads they lay dead on the streets of our town,
Another two lives lost for the ongoing fight,
And in Derry were mourned on that fateful night.

So we`ll raise up our hands and we`ll curse that British hand,
Who tore out the very hearts of men who dared to cross their path,
But my heart is broke in two, won`t you tell me what to do,
They couldn`t stop poor George and Pop and they`ll not stop me and you.

Now Georgie and Pop they lie cold as stone,
They died fighting for Derry, their own native home,
So always remember and don`t ever forget,
They died fighting for Ireland and we owe them debt.

So we`ll raise up our hands and we`ll curse that British hand,
Who tore out the very hearts of men who dared to cross their path,
But my heart is broke in two, won`t you tell me what to do,
They couldn`t stop poor George and Pop and they`ll NEVER stop me and you.