Giuseppe

Every time I go to London

I think about Giuseppe Conlon

Who left his home in Belfast

And travelled over to his son

As he said goodbye to Sarah

And took the boat to Heysham

Little did Giuseppe know

He'd never see that place again.

Giuseppe was an ailing man

And every breath he drew

Into his tired lungs

He used to maintain his innocence

Behind those walls

Behind those bars

For everyday remaining in his life

Maintaining his innocence

Giuseppe Conlon, Giuseppe.