What's the news, what's the news? O my bowels shall delir With your long-barrelled guns from the seaSay what wind from the south brings a messenger here With the hymn of the dawn for the freeGoodly news, goodly news, do I bring you forth Goodly news, shall you hear my demandAll the boys march on from the south to the north Led by Kelly, the boy from CalanTell me who is the giant with the gold curling hair He who rides at the head of your bandSeven feet is his height with some inches to spare And he looks like a king in commandO my boys, that's the pride of them all Shalmaneers, amongst our greatest of heroes, a manFling your beavers aloft and give clearing in cheers For John Kelly, the boy from CalanIn the Scarpies and Flames and o'er Wexford is one And the Barrow tomorrow we will crossOn the hill o'er the town we have planted a gun That will batter the gateway to RossAll the Fordmen and Bargymen will march o'er the heath With brave army to lead in the vanBut the foremost of all in the grim gap of death Will be Kelly, the boy from CalanBut the gold sun of freedom grew darkened at Ross And it set by the Slaney's red waveAnd poor Wexford, stripped naked, hung high on a cross With her heart pierced by traitors and slavesGlory o'er, glory o'er to her brave sons who died For the cause of long down-trodden manGlory o'er to her Leinster's own darling and pride Dauntless Kelly, the boy from Calan