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  • CourtroomDateMon Nov 01, 2010 1:05 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    The judge said "Stand up boy, and dry up your tears",
    "Your sentenced to Long Kesh, for seven long years",
    "I know you are loyal, to the Queen and the Crown",
    "But the laws of this Country, make me send you down".

    Now this was a story, in a courtroom one day,
    When a young loyal Protestant, was taken away,
    But the lad stood up proudly, and these words he said,
    "I'll be true to Uslter, until I am dead".

    "For these tears you see judge, are not tears of fear",
    "Thier just tears of sadness, for those I love dear",
    "But I know they'll stand by me, for there may be times",
    "I'll be with my comrades, we'll stand side by side".

    So listen ye rebels, to these words that I give,
    "You'll never take Ulster, for as long as you live",
    "For we will destroy you, we're loyal and true",
    "And the flag over Ulster, will be Red, White and Blue".

  • Coming HomeDateMon Nov 01, 2010 1:04 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    Every soldier who gave their life lives forever
    Every soldier who fought the fight echoes in our minds
    All the wounded and the brave
    The ones God couldn't save
    We salute your courage

    Coming home with pride (Coming home with pride)
    Coming home with heads held high (Heads held high)
    Coming home from lands afar
    Coming home (Coming home) to your loves

    All those heroes who defend our flag will live on forever
    All the heroes , both young and old , that soldier on to unknowns
    From across this changing world we live in the hope
    That you come back home

    Coming home with pride (I'm coming home with pride)
    Coming home with heads held high
    Coming home from lands afar
    Coming home to your loves

    I'm coming home

    (Coming home) I'm coming home with pride
    Oh , Coming home with heads held high
    (Coming home) Coming home from lands afar
    Coming home , Oh , to your loves
    Coming Home from lands afar
    Coming home (I'm coming home) to your arms
    I'm coming home to your arms

  • Christmas in the TrenchesDateMon Nov 01, 2010 1:03 pm

    My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool.
    Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
    To Belgium and to Flanders, to Germany to here
    I fought for King and country I love dear.
    'Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung,
    The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung
    Our families back in England were toasting us that day
    Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

    I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground
    When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
    Says I, "Now listen up, me boys!" each soldier strained to hear
    As one young German voice sang out so clear.
    "He's singing bloody well, you know!" my partner says to me
    Soon, one by one, each German voice joined in harmony
    The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more
    As Christmas brought us respite from the war
    As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
    "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" struck up some lads from Kent
    The next they sang was "Stille Nacht." "Tis 'Silent Night'," says I
    And in two tongues one song filled up that sky
    "There's someone coming toward us!" the front line sentry cried
    All sights were fixed on one long figure trudging from their side
    His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shown on that plain so bright
    As he, bravely, strode unarmed into the night
    Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's Land
    With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
    We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
    And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave 'em hell
    We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home
    These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
    Young Sanders played his squeezebox and they had a violin
    This curious and unlikely band of men

    Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
    With sad farewells we each prepared to settle back to war
    But the question haunted every heart that lived that wonderous night
    "Whose family have I fixed within my sights?"
    'Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost, so bitter hung
    The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
    For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war
    Had been crumbled and were gone forevermore

    My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell
    Each Christmas come since World War I, I've learned its lessons well
    That the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame
    And on each end of the rifle we're the same

  • Christmas 1914 DateMon Nov 01, 2010 1:03 pm

    Christmas Eve in 1914, stars were burning, burning bright,
    And all along the Western front, guns were lying still and quiet,
    Men lay dozing in the trenches, in the cold and in the dark,
    And far away behind the lines, a village dog began to bark.

    Some lay thinking of their families, some sang songs while others were quiet,
    Rolling fags and playing brag to pass away this Christmas night,
    As they watched the German trenches, something moved in no man's land,
    Through the dark there came a soldier, carrying a white flag in his hand.

    Then from both sides men came running, crossing into no man's land,
    Through the barbed wire, mud and shell-holes, shyly stood there shaking hands,
    Fritz he brought out cigars and brandy, Tommy brought corned beef and fags,
    Stood there talking, laughing, singing as the moon shone down on no man's land.

    Christmas Day we all played football, in the mud of no man's land,
    Tommy brought some Christmas pudding, Fritz brought out a German band.
    When they beat us at the football we shared out all the grub and drink,
    And Fritz showed me a faded photo, a brown haired girl back in Berlin.

    For four days after no one fired, not one shell disturbed the night,
    For old Fritz and Tommy Atkins, they'd both lost the will to fight.
    So they withdrew us from the trenches, sent us far behind the lines,
    Sent fresh troops to take our places, told the guns prepare to fire.

    The next day in 1914, flares was burning, burning bright,
    The message came, prepare offensive! Over the top we're going tonight,
    And men stood waiting in the trenches, looked out across our football park,
    And all along the Western front, the Christmas guns began to bark.

    Men stood waiting in the trenches, looked out across our football park,
    And all along the Western front, the Christmas guns began to bark.

  • CheeseburgerDateMon Nov 01, 2010 1:02 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: UDA SONGS

    Would you like to try a cheeseburger Bobby Sands?
    Would you like to try a cheeseburger Bobby Sands?
    Would you like to try a cheeseburger,
    You dirty smelly fenian, rebel loving fucker?
    Would you like to try a cheeseburger Bobby Sands?

    Well your ma was up this morning and she says she got your brew,
    Well your ma was up this morning and she says she got your brew,
    Well your ma was up this morning and she says she got your brew,
    But sure your brew would be no good to you,
    Theres a bed made, in Milltown just for you.

    Well I'm going for my dinner now Bobby Sands,
    (and you're not gettin none)
    Well I'm going for my dinner now Bobby Sands,
    (and you're not gettin none)
    Well I'm going for my dinner now,
    sWould you like me to bring you back a doggy bag?
    Theres a bed made in Milltown just for you.

    Well the smell of your cell would knock you fucking out,
    Well the smell of your cell would knock you fucking out,
    Well the smell of your cell would knock you fucking out,
    I've a good mind to go in there and beat you about,
    There's a bed made in Milltown just for you.

    Would you like to try a nice wee tin of Coke (Bobby Sands)?
    Would you like to try a nice wee tin of Coke (Bobby Sands)?
    Would you like to try a nice wee tin of Coke?
    Well your not fucking getting none, I hope you choke,
    There's a bed made in Milltown just for you.

  • British Flag DateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:55 pm

    The Flag raised here in 1912, once freedoms gallant spell,
    To mark the glorious day, that Ulster loved so well,
    This deathless flag a sacred trust, was bequeathes from side to sun,
    It shined the light to guide the right, when honour must be won.

    Our British flag our hopes our lives, was bequeathes from side to sun,
    Shall proudly wait to lead the brave, When glory must be won.

    Take your time the rebel cries, its days are long gone by,
    Their ghost of Carson sighs, its memory never dies.

    Our British flag our hopes our lives, was bequeathes from side to sun,
    Shall proudly wait to lead the brave, When glory must be won.

    And when the mortal emblem rears, on home or hallowed hall,
    One million hearts if danger nears, shall answer to the call.

    Our British flag our hopes our lives, was bequeathes from side to sun,
    Shall proudly wait to lead the brave, When glory must be won.

  • Brian Robinson DateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:54 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: UVF SONGS

    Let me tell you of a story fo fame and gallantry
    What the name of Brian Robinson it means to you and me
    It's a name that stand for courage and it stands for liberty
    On the 2nd day of September come and drink this toast with me

    So now here's to Brian Robinson a brave and loyal man
    And to every Ulster Volunteer who has fought for the Red Hand
    They have made the greatest sacrifice and we have seen the best
    So lift your glass to Brian and to the men of the UVF

    And to the men behind the wire for they have stood the test
    Let's not forget their sacrifice for they are Ulster's best
    Let us fight now for their liberty and freedom from Long Kesh
    With the cry 'For God and Ulster' free the men of the UVF

  • Brave OrangemenDateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:53 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    From Holland the eagles of France are all fled
    And the Orange of Nassau replaced in their stead;
    So we trust our good neighbours brought wisdom may learn
    Their friends and allies from their foes to discern.
    Then advance in full chorus my brave Orangemen,
    The French we did beat, and we'll beat them again.

    In the Hollanders cause we as cordially join,
    As they did in ours on the banks of the Boyne;
    When under King William in one common league,
    We planted an Orange tree fresh from the Hague.
    Then advance in full chorus, my brave Orangemen,
    May that Orange tree flourish for ever, Amen.

    With their blood our brave ancestors moistened its root,
    And thence the rich flavour we taste in its fruit,
    With ours, we will also repeal each invader,
    When the law is our guide, and a Brunswick our leader,
    So advance in full chorus, my brave Orangemen,
    Our foes we did beat, and we'll beat them again.

    Here under its ample and wide spreading shade,
    Our vows shall to loyalty ever be paid;
    It is now in full growth as well as full bearing.
    The glory, the pride and the boast of green Erin.
    So advance in full chorus, my brave Orangemen,
    Our foes we did beat, and we'll beat them again.

    There it prospers without any labour or toil,
    Agrees with the climate, and unites with the soil,
    And long shall its verdure remain in full force
    So long as King William bestrides his grey horse.
    Then advance in full chorus, my brave Orangemen,
    Our foes we did beat, and we'll beat them again.

    And long shall the hero our champion be seen,
    Bestriding that horse to adorn College green;
    In Orange and purple superbly arrayed
    While he smilles at his boys when they form on parade;
    And in their full chorus so cheerful advance
    The pride of green Erin, the terror of France.

    So let those all know who against us petition,
    Their impotent malice we hold in derision;
    No wonder that while their meek parliament sits,
    That we frighten the upstarts quite out of their wits,
    While in a full chorus we pray for success
    To the manly and spirited Derry address.

    Now, to put to due shame all affected vexation
    We report as at large in our first declaration
    That if men will be loyal and true to the laws
    Under one gracious King and in one noble cause
    Till our globe is dissolved and mortality ends,
    We'll advance in full chorus and hail them as friends

  • Boys of Sandy RowDateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:52 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    Come all ye loyal Orangemen and in full chorus join,
    Think on the deeds of William and his conquest at the Boyne,
    And gratefully commemorate that ever glorious day
    That crown'd the mighty hero King and ended Popish sway.

    Then band together firmly and popery overthrow
    Like to your gallant brethren the Boys of Sandy Row.

    Likewise yeze Presbyterians that for the truth contend
    Come forward now and manfully your chartered rights defend
    From fenians and from paypishes that fiercely youse assail
    And hope throughout Green Erin's Isle to carry a repeal.

    Then band together firmly and popery overthrow
    Like to your gallant brethren the Boys of Sandy Row.

    Th' intriguing paypishes surround this loyal and ancient town
    They tried you know not long ago to pull the Bible down
    And to destroy it root and branch they often have combined
    But from Sandy Row we made them fly like chaff before the wind.

    Then band together firmly and popery overthrow
    Like to your gallant brethren the Boys of Sandy Row.

    To brave and gallant Johnston who'd always do and dare
    Now let a bumper toast go round with honours from the chair
    The Boyne we never will forget nor Derry Walls renowned
    And should like days again return we'll be at our posts to be found.

    Then band together firmly and popery overthrow
    Like to your gallant brethren the Boys of Sandy Row.

  • Boyne Water DateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:51 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    July the first in old bridge town
    There was a grievous battle
    Where many a man lay on the ground
    By the cannons that did rattle
    King James he pitched his tents between
    The lines for to retire
    But King William threw his bomb balls in
    And set them all on fire

    Thereat enraged they vowed revenge
    Upon King William's forces
    And oft cry vehemently
    That they would stop courses
    A bullet from the Irish came
    Which grazed King William's shoulder
    They thought his Majesty was slain
    But he said "Pray, no closer"

    Then Duke Schomberg, with friendly care
    His King would often caution
    To shun the spot where bullets hot
    Retained their rapid motion
    But William said "He don't deserve
    The name of Faith's defender
    That would not venture life and limb
    To make a foe surrender"

    When we the Boyne began to cross
    The enemy they defended
    But few of our brave men were lost
    So stoutly we defended
    The horse was first that did march o'er
    The foot soon followed after
    But brave Duke Schomberg was no more
    By venturing o'er the water

    When valiant Schomberg he was slain
    King William he accosted
    His warlike men for to march on
    And he would be the foremost
    "Brave boys", he said, "be not dismayed
    For losing one commander
    For God will be our King this day
    And I'll be the General under"

    Then stoutly we the Boyne did cross
    To give our foes in battle
    Our cannon to our foes great cost
    Like thundering claps did rattle
    In majestic mein our prince rode o'er
    His men soon followed after
    With blow and shout put the foes to rout
    The day we crossed the water

    The Protestants of Drogheda
    Have reason to be thankful
    That they were not to bondage brought
    They being but a handful
    First to the Tholsel they were brought
    And tried at the Millmount after
    But brave King William set them free
    By venturing o'er the water

    The cunning French near to Dunleek
    Had taken up quarters
    And fenced themselves on every side
    Awaiting for new orders
    But in the dead time of night
    They set the fields on fire
    And long before the morning light
    To Dublin they retired

    Then said King William to his men
    After the French had departed
    "I'm glad", he said, "that none of ye
    Seemed to be chicken hearted
    So sheathe your swords and rest a while
    In time we'll follow after"
    Those words he uttered with a smile
    The day he crossed the water

    Come let us all with heart and voice
    Applaud our Faith's defender
    Who at the Boyne his valour showed
    And made his foes surrender
    To God above the praise we'll give
    Both now and ever after
    And bless the glorious memory
    Of King William that crossed the Boyne water.

  • Bloody road to the Somme DateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:50 pm

    Hear the measured beat of Ulstermen marching,
    Through the green fields and streets of the towns,
    Called up to arms by bold Edward Carson,
    To stand for the Red Hand and Crown.

    These were the seed of mighty CuChulainn,
    These were the sons of Congal Claen,
    Determined that Gaels and Rome should not rule them,
    And England if need be withstand.

    Those were the days of Ulsters defiance,
    Those were the days of passion and strife,
    Those were the days when England denied us,
    And Ulster stood for her life.

    The call came for war and the volunteers answered,
    The 36th was formed in 1914,
    To fight the German Kaiser instead of faithless England,
    And maintain their birth right and King.

    They marched into hell nearly two years onward,
    The first day of July on a bright summer morn,
    Aloft against blue skies they bore the Ulster Standard,
    Down the Bloody Road to the Somme.

    These were the men of Tyrone, Londonderry,
    Monaghan and Cavan, Down and Donegal,
    The men of Armagh, of Antrim and Fermanagh,
    Who walked the Bloody Road to the Somme.

    They faced the deadly hail from canons and machine guns,
    Through the bursting shells and hell of no-mans-land,
    Triumphantly they yelled the cry of No Surrender,
    And fought the Kaisers troops hand to hand.

    Three miles they struck through enemy defences,
    In the greatest charge of that European war,
    Like a mighty wave they swarmed the German trenches,
    Over fallen dead and barbed wire.

    Then they were cut off with no one to support them,
    They were mowed down by fire from three sides,
    Bravely they fell like leaves in the autumn,
    Death reaped the bitter harvest of their lives.

    When the battle ceased a young man was heard crying,
    Bleeding from a wound were the bullet creased his head,
    There amid the maimed the pleading and the dying,
    He held the broken body of his friend.

    As the red sun sets, smoke drifted o'er the trenches,
    These bewildered men trudged back along the way,
    The carnage it was great, the slaughter it was senseless,
    Five thousand Ulster Sons feel that day.

    Here was a time of mourning and of sorrow,
    All along the line they gathered up their dead,
    Here was a time of yearning for the morrow,
    Here was a time when Ulster bled.

    The land was filled with grief when news broke of the slaughter,
    Thick like black heavy clouds, it hung o'er croughnays brow,
    The telegrams they came to mothers, wives, and daughters,
    And like warm falling rain the tears poured down.

    We count the bloody cost they paid for Ulsters freedom,
    We cherish memories of those who died so young,
    With passing of the years we will not forget them,
    Who walked the Bloody Road to the Somme.

    As long as earth revolves upon its axis turning,
    And day sleeps in the dark and wakens with the dawn,
    As long as sun goes down and rises in the morning,
    We will remember the Somme.

    We will remember the Somme.

    Yes, we will remember the Somme.

  • Black Knights No.4DateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:48 pm

    Another whisper told how in power and gold – he who once was a slave did move,
    How anger slept and affection wept – in pure fraternal love,
    And the whisper told how a dying breath – sought out its last home the tomb,
    And around him hung the signs of death – in silence and in gloom.

    Darkly shadowy all around,
    The pilgrim travelled the mystic ground.

    And the whisper again came close to his ear Mount Horeb was the theme,
    When lo o’er his path there did appear the flash of a brilliant flame.
    And a fiery serpent crossed his path, and a limb was withered in pain,
    But it seemed the power subdued its wrath – for the limb was whole again.

    Darkly shadowy all around,
    The pilgrim travelled the mystic ground.

    And often he climbed the mountain height, in darkness and toil went he,
    ‘Til at length he saw a vision bright, rise out of the dark blue sea,
    Then a whirlwind rose and dashed him about – which filled his soul with dread,
    And the elements roared and thundering shout, as he lay like one that was dead.

    Darkly shadowy all around,
    The pilgrim travelled the mystic ground.

    But he quaffed new life from a mystic cup, never made by human hand,
    And invisible beings bore him up – In a chariot through the land-
    Then a flood of light burst on his sight and symbols and signs he found,
    Which none e’er knew but a pilgrim true ho travelled the mystic ground.

    Brightly glowed the Israel lights,
    Bright were the ranks of the mystic knights.

    Let the festive glass glow full and bright and this the toast be given,
    Here’s to the chosen true Black Knight of 3, 5, 7, 11
    Who drank of the cup when faint for breath – who rode the whirlwinds blast,
    Who passed amid thunder as if to death – but who saw the glory at last.

    Hail then – Hail then
    Hail to Israels’ golden lights
    Hail to the Orange true Black Knights.

  • Black Knights No.3DateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:48 pm

    Ye sons of the Patriarch Joseph, ye knights of the sable and mark,
    Oh guard with an eye reverential, the mysteries that dwell in the ark,
    There are types for the initiated, there are emblems of glorious hue,
    And thus is my breast decorated with Black and with Orange and Blue.

    Ye sons of the Patriarch Joseph, when unto the ark you ascend,
    Three steps will assist your progression on five points will your love depend,
    The dove with the branch elevated, the hopes of the chosen and few
    For these is my breast decorated with Black and with Orange and Blue.

    Ye sons of the Patriarch Joseph, we’re promised a rainbow of light,
    And o’er us there beameth a halo, a Royal Arch Purple and bright,
    In wisdom and truth elevated, our order stands forth to the view,
    Therefore is my breast decorated with Black and with Orange and Blue.

  • Black Knights No.2DateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:47 pm

    Behold the cup of festal rite fill it up with wine,
    Present it to the chosen knight at friendships hallowed shrine.
    The soul of song now mounting on wings of gleaming light,
    Will hover o’er the festive cup to hail the chosen knight
    Then fill to the brim - unto him - who three great lights did see,
    Who knows the wisdom that is tonight by ancient number three.

    Let wealth her golden coppers fill, or fountains impart,
    Yet all the kinder feelings shall when avarice grasps the heart,
    I care not for the wealthy fool, let splendour lead the van,
    Give me it is a golden rule, a generous humble man,
    Then fill to him – unto him – who proudly did arrive,
    To know the wisdom that is taught by mystic number five.

    Let learning pilot through the dark and shed her light about,
    Yet oft one guides the fragile bark – over seas of impious doubt.
    I prize the man whose highest lore in holy writ I trace,
    Who walks where virtue points before, through all paths of peace.
    Then fill to the brim – unto him – who ignorance has riven,
    Who knows the wisdom that is taught by mystic number seven.

    Let high philosophy go preach and trace effect to course,
    And all their metaphysics teach and lay down social laws.
    But all the maxims that they know – in one heart here unite –
    The heart that can forgive a foe and love a Brother Knight.
    Then fill to him – unto the brim – for unto him is given
    To know the wisdom that is taught by glorious eleven.

  • Black Knights No.1DateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:46 pm

    I travelled once a pleasant road where orange lilies grew,
    And o’er a rugged hill I strode with purple heather blue,
    Then up a mountain black I went in darkness was my lot,
    Yet brightly saw from the descent but I won’t tell you what.

    Then hail the bright and solemn rite
    Of our mysterious seven,
    And hail the Knight who saw the light
    Of mystical eleven.

    Yet ere reached the mountain top, travelled round and round,
    And tho’ I was supported up, I sank upon the ground,
    And hands unseen refreshments brought, that cup can’t be forgot,
    And words of wisdom I was taught but I won’t tell you what.

    Then hail the bright and solemn rite
    Of our mysterious seven,
    And hail the Knight who saw the light
    Of mystical eleven.

    Midst fiery snakes and thunder shocks I passed the desert sand,
    Until I reached the rugged rocks – then met a friendly hand,
    And types of death were round me thrown, expressive of our lot,
    And mystic lights I then were shown but I won’t tell you what.

    Then hail the bright and solemn rite
    Of our mysterious seven,
    And hail the Knight who saw the light
    Of mystical eleven.

    If you would wish to be advanced, or if you wish to rise,
    If you would have your work enhanced, or if you wish to be wise,
    If you would see our mystic light – if you will take our vow,
    And be made a true Black Knight, then I will tell you how.

  • Billy McFadzean DateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:45 pm

    Let me tell you a story of honour and glory,
    Of a young Belfast soldier Billy McFadzean by name,
    For King and for Country Young Billy died bravely,
    And won the VC on the fields of the Somme.

    Gone Like the snowflake that melts on the river,
    Gone like the first rays of days early dawn,
    Like the foam from the fountain,
    Like the mist from the mountain,
    Young Billy McFadzeans dear life has gone.

    Now Billy lies only were the red Flanders poppy,
    In wildest profusion paints the field of the brave,
    No piper recalling his deeds all forgotten,
    For Billy McFadzean has no known grave.

    Gone Like the snowflake that melts on the river,
    Gone like the first rays of days early dawn,
    Like the foam from the fountain,
    Like the mist from the mountain,
    Young Billy McFadzeans dear life has gone.

    So let us remember that brave Ulster soldier,
    The VC he won th young life that he gave,
    For duty demanding his courage outstanding,
    Private Billy McFadzean of the U.V.F.

  • Belfast TownDateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:44 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    I have traveled this world and the pleasures that she gave
    I've sailed the might oceans up and down
    For its plainly I have yearned for my homeland to return
    Just to see again my dear old Belfast Town.


    There she stands in command of our forefathers land
    She still wears the dear old British crown
    And though battle scarred she be
    She means home sweet home to me

    When I see again my dear old Belfast Town.
    And meander once again down this shackled narrow lane
    On the Sandy Road to wander up and down
    Through this city hall I'll walk to Finaghy and back
    Just to see again my dear old Belfast Town.

    There she stands in command of our forefathers land
    She still wears the dear old British crown
    And though battle scarred she be
    She means home sweet home to me

    I will visit East Belfast showing memories of our past
    I will gaze and storm my buildings shining white
    So when caution took its stand with its true and loyal band
    To fly the Union Jack was Ulster's right.

    There she stands in command of our forefathers land
    She still wears the dear old British crown
    And though battle scarred she be
    She means home sweet home to me

    I will see the city hall where the Union Jack flies tall
    I will stand and watch the mighty Lagan flow
    Belfast loyal to the core as she was in days of yore
    When the Ulster Volunteers to war did go.

    There she stands in command of our forefathers land
    She still wears the dear old British crown
    And though battle scarred she be
    She means home sweet home to me

    I'll be coming home in time and my heart will fill with pride
    To be back home in the place where I belong
    And Belfast will be kissed I can see that breaks the mist
    And know she bears her malice with this song.

    There she stands in command of our forefathers land
    She still wears the dear old British crown
    And though battle scarred she be
    She means home sweet home to me

  • Beautiful NoiseDateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:43 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    What a beautiful noise, comin up from the street,
    I'ts got a beautiful sound, I'ts got a beautuful beat,
    I'ts a beautiful noise, The sound of Flutes and the Drums,
    As thier music they play on this 12th Saturday against those fenian scum!

    I'ts a beautiful noise,
    To hear the bands march by,
    And it makes me feel good every 12 of July,
    Yes it does, Yes it does!

    What a beautiful noise, to hear the sound of 'The Sash',
    And people singing along, as they head to the park,
    I'ts the tunes that they play, and the flags that they fly,
    That I thank god, I am a loyal Prod on this 12th of July!

    I'ts a beautiful noise,
    To hear the Cymbals crash,
    And it makes me feel good, kickin fenians' ass,
    Yes it does, Yes it does!

    I'ts a beautiful noise, hearing old 'Derrys Walls',
    As the Orange banners sway,
    In the passing parade,
    Heading back to the house!

    I'ts a beautiful noise,
    I'ts the sound we all love,
    And it makes us feel good, being loyal Prods,
    Yes it does, Yes it does!

    What a beautiful noise,
    I could listen everyday,
    To those old Orange Flutes,
    When thier out on parade!

  • Ballad of Lindsey MooneyDateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:42 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: UVF SONGS

    Come gather round my comrades, a saddened tale I'll tell
    about upon a foreign land our brave young comrade fell
    his young life fitted from this land so torn by bomb and strife
    for Ulster's cause he gave his all and sacrificed his life.

    Was on a cold St. Patrick's night when Lindseys life was shed
    as to a bar where rebels were was a car bomb he was spared
    but something happened on that night our comrades life was through
    in a foreign land he gave his life in defense of all that's true.

    We pray that by his sacrifice the world shall see the truth
    his young life he gave valiantly his death was not in vain.
    The Ulster flag with its red hand on this land shall remain.

    So listen now you loyalists as this my tale I end
    he gave his life for liberty, Ulster's people to defend
    so lets remember always in letters aged and bold
    remember well this young mans name and the story you've been told.

    So lift a glass in Lindseys name and remember one and all
    that while young lads like Lindsey fight Ulster's cause shall never fall
    his life he gave so loyally the final price he paid
    in Ulster's cause he lived and died to fight the IRA.

  • Ballad of DrumcreeDateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:40 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    My name is Samuel Corrigan, my friends all call me Sam
    If you'll buy a man a drink then you can too,
    I've got a tale of much importance in the history of our land,
    So grab yourself a seat, I'll tell it through.

    Well I'm proud to be an Orangeman just like my father was
    Upholding the traditions of our creed,
    There's many like us in the land that's loyal to the cause,
    Though some would call it bigotry and greed.

    T'was the 7th of July, the year was 1996.
    When we set ourselves to march through old Drumcree,
    But soon we found our way was blocked by police with riot sticks.
    In this country of the pious and the free.

    Now it was our right to march that way,
    we've done for many years,
    And we swore that we would never compromise.
    And we faced them there five days and nights,
    hate ringing in our ears,
    But violence, fear and hate were our allies.

    Free men we have always been and free men we will stay.
    So stand you boys aside and let us through.
    We've marched in our tradition and it's always been our way,
    And we're free to do just what it tells us to.

    The Twelfth it was approaching and the country lived in fear,
    And held its breath to see what we would do.
    Then the word came through from Annisley we'd waited there to hear,
    "Bring down the barricades and let them through!"

    "Your pipes and whistles must stay silent",
    That was Annisley's demand.
    But still our message rang out true and real.
    We have the Right to the Remembrance of the wars that split our land,
    And no-one has the right to let it heal.

    Free men we have always been and free men we will stay.
    So stand you boys aside and let us through.
    We've marched in our tradition and it's always been our way,
    And we're free to do just what it tells us to.

    Meanwhile down at Stormont all our leaders sat and talked,
    They were trying to bring peace at any cost.
    But surely you can see my friend the reason that we walk,
    We don't want peace if our Traditions will be lost.

    Well victory was won that day, let there be no mistake.
    Though some would say the peace was jeapordised.
    Our land may be condemned to years of killing and of pain,
    But through them all we'll march with heads held high.

    Free men we have always been and free men we will stay.
    So stand you boys aside and let us through.
    We've marched in our tradition and it's always been our way,
    And we're free to do just what it tells us to.

  • Ballad of Andrew CraigDateMon Nov 01, 2010 12:39 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: UDA SONGS

    Young Andrew Craig was a volunteer
    He never knew that death was near
    He walked out one dark Sunday night
    And his body was found in the morning light

    And you are a member of the UDA
    And very proud of it, he always did say
    As a young volunteer, he did a good job
    But died at the hands of an IRA mob

    This brave lad was young at heart
    But if Ulster had called, he'd have done his part
    So don't forget you rebel scum
    Your day of judgment has yet to come

    And who are buried with honour and pride
    His UDA comrades were all by his side
    This was their way of saying good-bye
    But young Andrews name will never die.

  • Aughalee HeroesDateSat Oct 30, 2010 5:24 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    You Protestants of Ireland,
    Give ear to these lines I write down,
    Concerning these Aughalee heroes
    That marched through sweet Portadown.

    It being on the 12th day of July,
    Our music so sweetly did play,
    And The Protestant Boys and Boyne Water
    Were the tunes we played going away.

    Like the sons of King William we marched,
    Till at length Lurgan town we did view,
    Where the Church it was decorated
    With Orange, Purple, and Blue.

    Round its spires our colours were flying;
    Small gun's like cannons did roar -
    Long life to these Aughalee heroes!
    For they are the boys we adore.

    Captain Black, like a bold Orange hero,
    Came riding down on his grey steed,
    And he asked us what number we carried,
    And where did we mean to proceed.

    We told him from the County of Antrim -
    Our number was six-thirty-two;
    We are the bold Aughalee heroes,
    That will soon make the rebels subdue.

    We took off our hats to salute him,
    So boldy he bade us march on;
    And he rode like a hero before us,
    Till we came to the banks of the Bann.

    And when we arrived safe in Aughalee,
    The brandy did flow like the Rhine -
    Long life to these Aughalee heroes,
    For they are the boys crossed the Boyne

  • Armagh BrigadeDateSat Oct 30, 2010 5:23 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: UVF SONGS

    Billy Gray Billy Gray will you not come to me,
    Bright light has turned to darkness in this trench I cannot see,
    And my sight has just been shattered by the shell that blinded me,
    Fighting with the Armagh Brigade.

    For I remember when all my associates in arms,
    We gathered from towns all our villages and farms,
    In answer to the echo of Carsons loud alarm,
    We forme up the Armagh Brigade.

    We took those smuggled rifles from off the Clyde Valley,
    To fight the right for England or whatever enemy,
    Who would bring us into bondage or deny our liberty,
    We marched with the Armagh Brigade.

    I've always been so puzzeled and I cannot understand,
    Why we're fighting here in France and not in Ulsters land,
    And knowing Englands promises are as firm as drifting sand,
    I dont believe a word they say.

    Now when we charged that morning with a great and mighty yell,
    Right through the German trenches how far I cannot tell,
    I prepared myself for heaven but I marched right into hell,
    Along with the Armagh Brigade.

    I hear the booming thunder and the stutter of the guns,
    I hear the angry screaming of Ulsters fallen sons,
    In this bloody slaughterhouse of the Battle of the Somme,
    Im dyin' with the Armagh Brigade.

    For Ulster is my heritage and Ulster is my cause,
    I laugh at her futility her glory is a fraud,
    But im bleeding heavily and I must go to God,
    Im leavin' the Armagh Brigade.

    Billy Gray, Billy Gray will you not come to me,
    I'm far away from my home my wife and family,
    Will you come and speak some comfort and be a friend to me,
    If your not dead yet Billy Gray.

  • Apprentice Boys of DerryDateSat Oct 30, 2010 5:22 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ABOD SONGS

    Let me tell you all the story,
    Of fame and gallantry,
    How the 'Prentice Boys of Derry,
    They went down in history,
    They were only thirteen Derry lads,
    And William was their man,
    And as King James laid Derry siege,
    From the Boys these orders ran.

    Place King Williams Orange standard above the city walls,
    And close the gates of Derry cried the thirteen 'Prentice Boys,
    Till King Williams sword of freedom brings us victory one and all,
    We'll hold the gates of Derry cried the thirteen 'Prentice Boys.

    So come lift your glasses rightly,
    And you'll raise a toast with me,
    To every loyal Ulsterman who has fought to keep her free,
    To those gallant thirteen Derry lads, And sacred memory,
    Come charge your glasses yet again,
    This chorus sing with me.

    Place King Williams Orange standard above the city walls,
    And close the gates of Derry cried the thirteen 'Prentice Boys,
    Till King Williams sword of freedom brings us victory one and all,
    We will hold the gates of Derry cried the thirteen 'Prentice Boys.
    Yes we'll hold the gates of Derry cried the thirteen Apprentice Boys.

  • Always be a Womble DateSat Oct 30, 2010 5:21 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: UDA SONGS

    Oh I'll always be a womble till the day I drop and die,
    And I'd hate to be a fenian coz' thier bastards and thier sly,
    Oh thier all dirty wee fat fucks, and thier two faced slimey cunts,
    They should be burnt out and sent to Dublin now to spend thier fuckin punts.

    So come on Jim don't talk to him, his heads a-fuckin-way,
    You young lads should be a man and fight the I.R.A,
    No matter what they tell you, no matter what they say,
    Follow in your fathers footsteps son and join the U.D.A.

    No I don't give a fuck about Donald Duck coz he doesn't give a fuck about me,
    And we don't give a fuck about Martin McGuinness or that bastard Jerry,
    Coz thier all dirty wee fat fucks, and thier two faced slimey cunts,
    They should be burnt out and sent to Dublin now to spend thier fuckin punts.

    So come on Jim don't talk to him, his heads a-fuckin-way,
    You young lads should be a man and fight the I.R.A,
    No matter what they tell you, no matter what they say,
    Follow in your fathers footsteps son and join the U.D.A.

  • Advice to Orangemen DateSat Oct 30, 2010 5:20 pm
    Topic by ulsterman. Forum: ORANGE SONGS

    All ye who Orange colours wear,
    And wish to be instructed,
    Go place the Bible in the chair,
    And by it be conducted;
    For if Jehovah's voice ye hear,
    And are by Him directed,
    Your enemies ye need not fear,
    For ye will be protected.

    Search through that volume and behold.
    How His Almighty arm
    Preserved the Israelites of old,
    And kept them free from harm;
    He sent them Moses for their guide,
    And fully him instructed.
    How Israel through the raging tide
    By Him should be conducted.

    Next Joshua was forward sent
    Fair Canaan to discover,
    Across the Jordan first he went
    And brought all Israel over;
    The heathen fast before them flew,
    Convulsed with fear and wonder,
    For He who saved His chosen few,
    Oft spoke in tones of thunder.

    While Israel to the law gave heed,
    And on it meditated
    Peace, wealth, and honour was their meed,
    And Kings their hearts elated:
    But turning to idolatry,
    They met with desolation,
    A high decree caus'd them to be
    Dispersed through every nation.

    But still the Lord, in darkest age,
    Had many true believers,
    Who loved to read His holy page,
    In spite of all deceivers;
    When guilty Rome would to the tomb
    Consign His revelation,
    A chosen few were still found true
    In every Christian nation.

    Now since from superstitions sway
    The present generation
    As yet is saved let us today
    make steady preparation
    At heaven's command to keep our land
    From heathen's pollution,
    From foreign yoke, and fatal stroke
    Of Popish revolution.

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