Lyrics

Well, if you’ve got a wing-o, take her up to Ring-o Where the waxies sing-o all the day; If you’ve had your fill of porter, and you can’t go any further Gi

The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone In the ranks of death you will find him His father’s sword he hath girded on And his wild harp slung behind him “Land o

No more to busk the left bank for the “The Cowboy Ecosse” No more to play the country scaff where you had tae earn your pay No more to hear that rye mouth

Chorus: It is the biggest mixed up that you have ever seen My father he was orange, and my mother she was green Oh, my father was an Ulsterman, proud Prote

On Ben Bulben’s green and lofty height The evening sun was a setting bright It gave a ray of a golden light Around the Bay of Sligo A tiny craft with glanc

May the Lord upon high who rules the sky, look down on our pubs and bars And the women and men all seated within, neglecting there pints and there jars The

In Dublin town in nineteen sixteen a flame of freedom did arise A group of men with determination caught an empire by surprise Through the streets our men

I was riding the high stool, expandin’ and expoundin’, On the price of rice in Sierra Leone and the height of the beef mountain. As to where did Jack Doyle

And I would dream of how proud they felt back in “16” Still remember the fright when the UDA came in the middle of the night Right then I knew that I was d

“O then, tell me Sean O’Farrell, tell me why you hurry so” “Hush, me Bouchall, hush and listen,” and his cheeks were all aglow I bear orders from the capta