I am the lord of offaly
silken Thomas is my name
no sword for Henry will I hold
my heritage I claim
to trust no more in foreign kings
whose word I treat with scorn
my father lies in londons tower
the prey of henrys pawns
here in your council chamber
where long I have been blind
this sword of state I give and more
the curse of Geraldine
the chanting of my harper
foretells what must be done
my army lies in maynooth now
my battle flag is hung
what cruel fate befalls to see
all ormond raised in arms
the butlers seek advancement
may the lord keep us from harm
my castle is surrendered
my army scattered far
and all as prisoners murdered
that no hero here may flower
alone I wait in ferment
no trial will I see
by church and crown I'm outlawed
and tyburn waits for me
but still my curse I lay on thee
that all who are of thine
will long remember Offaly
and the house of Geraldine