The house of Orange
Stan Rogers
(Rythme ¾) F(sus4) : 113311 I_ took back_ my hand_ and I_ showed him__ the door___ No_ dol_-lar of_ mine_ would I_ part_ with_ this day___ For_ fuel_-ing the_ en_-gine_ of_ a bloody_ cru-_u-el_ war___ In my fore_-father's home_ far__ away___ Who_ fled the first_ Famine_ wea_-ring all_ that they owned___ Were called_ 'Na_-vigators' all_ ragged__ and torn___ And_ built_ the Grand_ Trunk_ here_ and found_ a new_ home___ Wherever_ their chil_-dren_ were born___ __ Their sons_ have_ no po_-litics_ none_ can_ recall___ Alle_-giance_ from long_ ge_-nera_-tions_ before___ O'_this or_ O'that name_ can't matter_ at all___ Or be_-cause_ enough for_ to war___ And meanwhile_ my babies_ are safe_ in_ their home___ Unlike their pale cousins_ who_ cower_ and cry___ While_ knee_-cappers_ nail their poor dads_ to_ the floor___ And teach them_ to hate and_ to die___ It's those_ cruel_ beggars_ who spurn_ the fair coin___ The peace_ for their_ kids they could_ take at_ their will___ Since the day_ old King Billy__ prevailed__ at the Boyne___ They've bombed_ and they've maimed_ and they've_ killed___ Now they cry_ out_ for_ money_ and wail_ at_ the door___ But Home_ Rule_ or__ Republic_ 'tis all of it_ shame___ And_ the curse for us_ here_ who_ want_ nothing__ of war___ We're kindred_ in_ nothing_ but name___ ___ All rights_ and all_ wrongs have long since_ blown away___ For cau_-ses are_ ashes where_ children lie_ slain___ Yet the damned_ U._D.L._ and_ the cruel_ I.R.A. ___ Will_ tomorrow_ go mur_-dering again___ But no_ penny_ of mine_ will I_ add to__ the fray___ "Remember__ the Boyne!" they will_ cry_ out_ in vain___ For I've_ given__ my heart_ to_ the place I_ was born___ And forgiven_ the whole House_ of Orange___ King Billy_ and the whole House_ of Orange___