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For i am a Rad Hand Soldier, and there's no one any bolder,
Than the boys wear the berets, and a coat of royal blue,
We fear not any rebel, priests, soldiers or sinn fieners,
We're the boys who're in the column, when there's fighting to be done.
Now some are from the Shankill, and some are from the village,
But some are out of Antrim, in the hills of County Down,
But wether your a westman, a north, south or eastman,
It doesn't really matter, when you wear the red hand crown.
We'll have those rebels trembling, when they see our boys assembling,
We'll have them all a running, to the echoes of our guns,
We'll take on Dave O'Connell, and his corny rebel army,
For what the hell do we care, for a thousand fenian scum.
Now some are from the Shankill, and some are from the village,
But some are out of Antrim, in the hills of County Down,
But wether your a westman, a north, south or eastman,
It doesn't really matter, when you wear the red hand crown.
Well our country is a calling, from the men to bring her dawn in,
To strike a blow for freedom, and a land to call our own,
And stand shoulder to shoulder, you'll find the Red Hand Soldier,
His country and his people, to be free for ever more.
Now some are from the Shankill, and some are from the village,
But some are out of Antrim, in the hills of County Down,
But wether your a westman, a north, south or eastman,
It doesn't really matter, when you wear the red hand crown,
It doesn't really matter, when you wear the red hand crown.
Drink to the memory of the brave, the fearless and the few,
Some lie far of beneath the waves, some sleep in Ulster too,
Though all are gone their fame lives on, the names of those who died,
And proud and true these men like you remember them with pride.
So come listen to my story now of a brave young Ulster man,
Whose life was cruelly taken by a rebel's murdering hand,
He's a man that we will remember, and a friend for evermore,
In memory of a volunteer one Robert "Squeak" Seymore.
Let those of you who tremble, let those of you who fear,
The avenging hand of Ulster, it will find you far or near,
And one night while you are sleeping, the hand upon the door,
Will be the hand of an Ulster volunteer, one Robert "Squeak" Seymore.
You may think my story finished now, you may think my story told,
And the man that i have spoke of, he lies in the ground so cold,
But no he is always with us, he is here with us today,
For the truth is Robert Seymore he will never fade away.
Let us pledge not to forget him and remember evermore,
That here, Here Lies a Soldier,
One Robert "Squeak" Seymore.
