The Boy from Tamlaghduff — Moira Kelly

Francis Hughes was one of the finest soldiers Ireland produced in the latter half of the 20th century. Imbued with the fighting spirit of the best of our race, he traversed the Irish countryside striking at the invading forces at every possible opportunity. After being ambushed by the SAS he was captured and eventually imprisoned in the H-Blocks. He died on hunger strike on the 12th of May 1981. Lyrics: As I walked through the Glenshane Pass I heard a young girl mourn: "The boy from Tamlaghduff," she cried, "is forty years dead and gone." How my heart is torn apart this young man to lose; O, I'll never see the likes again of my young Francis Hughes. For many years his exploits were a thorn in England’s side; The hills and glens became his home, 'twas there he used to hide. Once when they surrounded him, he quietly slipped away, Like a fox he went to ground and kept the dogs at bay. Moving 'round the countryside, he often made the news, But they could never lay their hands on my young Francis Hughes. Finally, they wounded him and captured him at last; From the countryside he loved they took him to Belfast. From Musgrave Park to Crumlin Road and then to an H-Block cell, He went straight on the blanket then on hunger strike as well. His will to win they could never break no matter what they tried; He fought them every day he lived and he fought them as he died. As I walked through the Glenshane Pass I heard a young girl mourn: "The boy from Tamlaghduff," she cried, "is forty years dead and gone." How my heart is torn apart this young man to lose, O, I'll never see the likes again of my young Francis Hughes.