In the County Tyrone

[Mikhailichenko 90]

[BLUEDIGNITY 34,057]

In the County Tyrone near the town of Dunganon,

There was many a ruction that meself had an hand in

Bob Williams he lived there a weaver by trade

And all of us thought him a stout Orange blade

On the twelfth of July as around it had come

Bob played his old flute to the sound of the drum

You can talk to ya harp, ya piano or Lute

But nothing compares with the ould Orange Flute.

But Bob, the deciever, he took us all in

He married a Papish called Bridget McGinn

Turned Papish himself and forsook the old cause

That gave us our freedom, religion and laws

Now the boys in the place made some comment upon it

And Bob had to fly to the province of Connacht

Well he fled with his wife and his fixings to boot

And along with the latter his ould Orange Flute.

At the chapels on sundays, to atone for past deeds

He'd say Paters and Aves and he counted his beads

Till, after some time, at the priest's own desire

Bob went with his ould flute to play in the choir

Well he went with his ould flute to play in the mass

But the instrument shivered and sighed, oh alas

And blow as he would, though it made a great noise

The flute would play only "The protestant boys".

At a council of priests that was held the next day

They decided to banish the ould flute away

They couldn't knock heresy out of its head

So they bought Bob a new one to play in its stead

Now the ould flute it was doomed and its fate was pathetic

'Twas fastened and burnt at the stake as heretic

As the flames roared around it, sure they heard a strange noise

'Twas the ould flute still playing 'The protestant boys'.

PS - Good Night All ! Never Forgive. Never Forget.

[Mikhailichenko 90]

In the County Tyrone near the town of Dunganon,

There was many a ruction that meself had an hand in

Bob Williams he lived there a weaver by trade

And all of us thought him a stout Orange blade

On the twelfth of July as around it had come

Bob played his old flute to the sound of the drum

You can talk to ya harp, ya piano or Lute

But nothing compares with the ould Orange Flute.

But Bob, the deciever, he took us all in

He married a Papish called Bridget McGinn

Turned Papish himself and forsook the old cause

That gave us our freedom, religion and laws

Now the boys in the place made some comment upon it

And Bob had to fly to the province of Connacht

Well he fled with his wife and his fixings to boot

And along with the latter his ould Orange Flute.

At the chapels on sundays, to atone for past deeds

He'd say Paters and Aves and he counted his beads

Till, after some time, at the priest's own desire

Bob went with his ould flute to play in the choir

Well he went with his ould flute to play in the mass

But the instrument shivered and sighed, oh alas

And blow as he would, though it made a great noise

The flute would play only "The protestant boys".

At a council of priests that was held the next day

They decided to banish the ould flute away

They couldn't knock heresy out of its head

So they bought Bob a new one to play in its stead

Now the ould flute it was doomed and its fate was pathetic

'Twas fastened and burnt at the stake as heretic

As the flames roared around it, sure they heard a strange noise

'Twas the ould flute still playing 'The protestant boys'.

PS - Good Night All ! Never Forgive. Never Forget.

..and Never Surrender. Goodnight Brother.

[The Hammer 11 2,824]

Someone rep bd on my phone

[Blueshoff 12,709]

Never EVER forgive. Never EVER forget.