Ballymacarrett398

King Billys on the Wall

Well there's a famous painting that everybody knows
It stands upon a gable wall over at Sandy Row
In memory of King William and brethren who did join
They fought for our deliverance at the Battle of the Boyne.

CHORUS:

King Billy's on the wall
King Billy's on the wall
He stands so high, he shines so bright
He lights up the falls
There's millions come to see him, they stand and gaze in awe
They remember 1690, King Billy's on the wall.

There are slogans painted in red, white and blue
They tell the pope where he can go and what he can do
There's one for Gerard Rice, well that's a different class
Go take the Lower Ormeau Road and stick it up your arse.

CHORUS

Now the next time you're in Ulster be sure to have a look
Stand beside that mural and have your photo took
Put it on the mantelpiece or hang it in the hall
So the whole world can see King Billy's on the wall.

Derry's Walls

The time has scarce gone by boys
Two hundred years ago
When Rebels on old Derry's Walls
Their faces dare not show
When James and all his rebel band
Came up to Bishops Gate
With heart and hand and sword and shield
We caused them to retreat.

Chorus.

Then fight and don''t surrender
But come when duty calls,
With heart and hand and sword and shield
We''ll guard old Derry''s Walls.

The blood did flow in crimson streams
Full many a winter''s night
They knew the Lord was on their side
To help them in the fight
They nobly stood upon the walls
Determined for to die,
To fight and gain the victory
And hoist the Crimson high;

Chorus.

At last, at last with one broadside
kind heavens sent their aid
The boom was broke that crosspoint showed
And James he was dismayed
The Banner, boys that floated
Was run aloft with joy
God bless the hands that broke the boom
And saved the Apprentice Boys.

Flower of Ulster

A soldier boy was leaving
his sweetheart one fine day
with sad farewells and broken hearts
he wiped her tears aways
she pinned to him a Lily
as he kissed his love goodbye
THE FLOWER OF DEAR OLD ULSTER
that will never wither n die

across the seas he travelled
to a land so far away
where generations of loyal hearts
were sacrificed that day
he took with him a Lily
when he kissed his love goodbye
THE FLOWER OF DEAR OLD ULSTER
that will never wither n die

Chorus

It was only an ORANGE LILY
she pinned upon his breast
On a cold and early July morn
they laid him down to rest
now the only flowers that bloom
in the poppy fields so red
Is the Orange Lily of Ulster
that will flower over his head

Now she sits n dreams her memories
for her love has never died
and time will grant her wishes
and take her to his side
and through the years she treasured
the day they said goodbye
SHE WHISPERED TAKE MY LOVE WITH YOU
IT WILL NEVER WITHER N DIE

chorus

It was only an ORANGE LILY
she pinned upon his breast
On a cold and early July morn
they laid him down to rest
now the only flowers that bloom
in the poppy fields so red
Is the Orange Lily of Ulster
that will flower over his head.

Loyal Heart

From Loyal veins my life I drew
In Loyal arms I lay
From Loyal Lips that Lessons new
That led me day by day
And hearts to rest in Loyal Breast
And rocked on Loyal knee
They wore and grew and thank God too
A Loyal Heart in me.

Then came the day for all to view
When scorn and lies held sway
Those evil men with no virtue
They swore my life away
But for dare or ill I am Loyal Still
They never can decree
To force retreat or stop the beat
The Loyal Heart in me.

At times I sigh at times I rest
Amid Scenes and faces strange
The passing years have in my breast
Brought little or no change
Memories of old ever bright I hold
Since rocked on Loyal knee
And for her sake no jail will break
This Loyal Heart in me.

Londonderry on the Foyle

Tonight I dream about my Maiden city
I'll Go back to the days I spent there as a boy
I dream about the friends I left behind me
In my city, Londonderry on the Foyle

Well my mother she writes to me here twice weekly
And she tells me all the things are going on
And she tells me of the bombings and the shootings
In my city, Londonderry on the Foyle

But tonight I lay upon my bed I''m dreaming
I am dreaming of the friends I left behind
And I dream about my sweetheart in the Fountain
In my city, Londonderry on the Foyle

But once more I am coming home aboard the steamship
On Lough Foyle once more I''m passing by Colmore
And I see those old walls still are standing
They''re round my city Londonderry on the Foyle

I can see the old cathedral it''s still standing
And not far away the old Memorial Hall
And I see the crimson banner, it''s still flying
Over my city Londonderry on the Foyle.

Hands Across the Water

Just across the Irish Sea
Stirs a heart of Loyalty
Raised in Honour and in dignity
Drives a will to keep us British free
Not alone are we on this journey
For in a land just across the sea
Is a hand that reaches out in friendship
And a bond thats lasted centuries

And it''s hands across the water
Reaching out for you and me
For Queen, For Ulster and For Scotland
Helps to keep our Loyal people free
Let the cry be "No Surrender"
Let no-one doubt this Loyalty
Reaching out to the Brave Red Hand of Ulster
Is the hand across the sea

Repeat second verse

Repeat first verse

Poppy Fields

Theres a town just north of Belfast white houses row on row
Where was raised an Ulster family how proudly they did grow
Now proud and happy parents watched there son grow to a man
And they taught him truth and justice in this part of Ireland

Then one day there came a letter with his comrades he would go
To a place across the water where the tears and blood would flow
So he waved farewell to Ulster and next morning at the dawn
A broken hearted mother sent her son off to the Somme

Then one night as she lay sleeping in a dream there at the door
Stood a handsome looking soldier the Kings colours he had wore
He said mother dont you know me let me in im feeling cold
But the crimson blood upon his chest the fateful story told

Theres a town just north of Belfast where a father proudly cries
And a broken hearted mother wipes the tears falling from her eyes
Theres a graveyard north of Theipval the white crosses row on row
Where he sleeps beside his comrades now
In the fields where the red poppies grow
Yes he sleeps beside his comrades now
In the fields where the red poppies grow

Old Orange Flute

In the county Tyrone, in the town of Dungannon
Where many a ruckus meself had a hand in
Bob Williamson lived there, a weaver by trade
And all of us thought him a stout-hearted blade.
On the twelfth of July as it yearly did come
Bob played on the flute to the sound of the drum
You can talk of your fiddles, your harp or your lute
But there''s nothing could sound like the Old Orange Flute.

But the treacherous scoundrel, he took us all in
For he married a Papist named Bridget McGinn
Turned Papish himself and forsook the Old Cause
That gave us our freedom, religion and laws.
And the boys in the county made such a stir on it
They forced Bob to flee to the province of Connaught;
Took with him his wife and his fixins, to boot,
And along with the rest went the Old Orange Flute.

Each Sunday at mass, to atone for past deeds,
Bob said Paters and Aves and counted his beads
Till one Sunday morn, at the priest''s own require
Bob went for to play with the flutes in the choir.
He went for to play with the flutes in the mass
But the instrument quivered and cried."O Alas!"
And blow as he would, though he made a great noise,
The flute would play only "The Protestant Boys".

Bob jumped up and huffed, and was all in a flutter.
He pitched the old flute in the best holy water;
He thought that this charm would bring some other sound,
When he tried it again, it played "Croppies Lie Down!"
And for all he would finger and twiddle and blow
For to play Papish music, the flute would not go;
"Kick the Pope" to "Boyne Water" was all it would sound
Not one Papish bleat in it could e'er be found.

At a council of priests that was held the next day
They decided to banish the Old Flute away;
They couldn''t knock heresy out of its head
So they bought Bob another to play in its stead.
And the Old Flute was doomed, and its fate was pathetic
''Twas fastened and burnt at the stake as heretic.
As the flames rose around it, you could hear a strange noise
''Twas the Old Flute still a-whistlin'' "The Protestant Boys".

Wee Spot In Europe
There's a wee spot in Europe its a place of great fame
It lies to the north land and Ulster's its name
It only has six counties but o what renown
And it s emblem is the red hand topped by the queens crown

Now the Germans came over in the year of forty one
And they tried to destroy us by bomb and by gun
But our history could tell us of others who tried
How our sons defended Ulster and they fought and died

If a fenian should speak to in his own fenian tongue
They will speak of our friendships why we cant be one
Just you point to the red hand topped by the queens crown
Say were side by side with Scotland and they wont let us down

So now brothers and sisters let us join as one
Let us drink to our Ulster its heroes and its sons
And while we are toasting two names we must join
That of William of Orange and the banks of the BOYNE

Piczo