The enemies of Ulster are cowards, every one
they call themselves the IRA, but they are only scum.
The souls of those they've murdered, proud from heaven above
but the enemies of Ulster don't know the word called love.
They shoot and kill then runaway and crawl back to their den
these monsters are not human, they are not even men.
But their time will come, for mark my word they'll pay the price someday
for they'll be cut down like the mad dogs they are by the men of the UDA.
One cold dark night in the month of March in 1971
three boys just barely in their teens went out to have some fun
But these evil men who have no god, to these boys laid their claim
and left them lying murdered in a lonely country lane.
The protestants of Ulster together must unite
to beat these rebel cowards who murder in the night.
We'll send them back where they belong to crawl back to their den
and Loyalists shall all rejoice, and Ulster's free again.