Irish traditional song lyrics — collected by Beer Belly Band.
Wee Willie John McFadden was a loyal Orange prod,
Who thought that Ian Paisley was just one step down from God.
He thought that they ate the children in the back woods of Ardoyne,
And he thought that history started with the battle of the Boyne.
One day he took a brick in his hand and wandered up the Falls
Mumblin’ up the rangers and hummin’ Derry’s walls
He broke a big shop windy, to annoy the Pope of Rome,
Then he took a record player out and then he staggered home.
That night they held a hooley, in the local Orange hall,
And Willie brought his player, to make music for the ball.
He chose a stack of records, of a very loyal kind,
But when the music started up, he nearly lost his mind.
For this Fenian record player was a rebel to the core,
It played the songs the Orange hall had never heard before
For “Dolly’s Brae” and “Derry’s walls”, it didn’t give a fig,
And it speeded up “God save the Queen,” till it sounded like a jig.
It played the “Woods of Upton” and “The Wearing of the Green”
Such turmoil in an Orange hall has never yet been seen.
It played “The Boys of Wexford” and “The Men of `98”
But when it played “The Soldier’s Song” it sealed Wee Willie’s fate.
For the boys went clean demented, to the ground Wee Will was thrown
And they kicked his ribs in one by one, to the tune of “Gary Owen”
They through him out the windy, to a song of old Sinn Fein,
And they kicked him all down Sandy Road to “A Nation Once Again”
This Fenian record player was heard no nevermore.
They prodded it with deacon poles and threw it on the floor.
But still it was not finished, `twas the strangest sight you’ve seen,
For the flashed flying out of it were Orange, White and Green.
Now Willie’s in the looney bin, as crazy as a coot.
He sits there in his padded cell and tootles on his flute
But when he tries to play “The Sash” he always gets it wrong.
Halfway through, he always finds he’s playing “The Soldiers Song”
There’s a moral to this story. What it is I cannot say.
It may be just the ancient one that crime will never pay.
But if you ask Wee Will McFadden, he’ll say “Aw, Crimey Blows!
If you want to pinch a record player, do it up the Shankhill Road.