“JANKERS JOHNSTON”

A ballad overheard in the penal colonies of the asteroid belt, discovered by Stephen Walsh and Keith Page

They made a grave of Ireland, they did it with a smile,
With pox and gas and worse besides, singing all the while,
They made us fight their planet wars, and granted us no peace,
But I’m here to tell you comrades, we soon shall see release.

We’ll fight no more on Alphaton, on Mars or underground,
We’ll wrest our pride from Albion, who sold it by the pound,
For away out far there shines a star, a name whispered between us,
And Erin’s heart shall beat again on the gentle shores of Venus.

Me name is Jankers Johnston, and you’ve heard me tell a few,
But I swear by dear O’Connell’s grave this prophecy is true,
So farewell to blood-red empires, to wars of old mens’ bluster,
I’m taking ship for Venus now with every Gael who’ll muster.

We’ll fight no more on Alphaton, on Mars or underground,
We’ll wrest our pride from Albion, who sold it by the pound,
For away out far there shines a star, a name whispered between us,
And Erin’s heart shall beat again on the gentle shores of Venus.

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