Sandy Row

I have been a wanderer all my life, I'll roam this time no more
But now I'm sailing back again, back to old Ulster's shores
To settle down in Belfast town in a place that you all know
Sure it fills my heart with gladness when I think of Sandy Row.

When I recall my childhood days, a tear comes to my eye
I think of all the brethren on the 12th day of July
For the music of the bands that day, it sets my heart a glow
As we marched along together down the streets of Sandy Row.

Now whenever I have settled down, I never more will roam
Away from dear old Ulster, for it is my home sweet home
I'll get myself a little house, my children there will grow
With all my loyal brethren in the streets of Sandy Row.

And now my song is finished and my head I will lay down
I am proud that I am loyal to the Red Hand and the Crown
The people that will meet me now, for off this ship I go
Will be the people that I love, who live in Sandy Row

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Scottish Gunrunners

This stories famous to all Ireland, if you listen i'll tell you it all,
Of the brave men who brought the Clyde Valley to Larne,
In answer to Lord Carson's call,
They landed more rifles, those gunrunning lads,
At Bangor and Donaghadee,
Their cause it was true, for me and for you,
In their fight to keep Ulster free.

Proudly they laughed and they cheered as they gathered,
Waiting for rifles to fight for their cause,
They knew their fight was a flight with Ulster's blessing,
They never flinched though they marched straight into the war.

They came up from Cavan and County Tyrone,
Fermanagh and Monaghan too,
And from Donegal, they heard Carson's call,
From Antrim staunch hearts proud and true,
From Down Armagh, Londonderry as well,
United they all gathered there,
For they were determined, that they would stay free,
Or die for their Ulster so fair.

Proudly they laughed and they cheered as they gathered,
Waiting for rifles to fight for their cause,
They knew their fight was a flight with Ulster's blessing,
They never flinched though they marched straight into the war.

Proudly they laughed and they cheered as they gathered,
Waiting for rifles to fight for their cause,
They knew their fight was a flight with Ulster's blessing,
They never flinched though they marched straight into the war.

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Secret

There's a man who comes from Ulster he's a prtestant through and through,
his story i am going to tell to you,
he is a loyal orangeman and he loves red, white and blue,
and anything for old Ulster he would do,

He's been going out with a woman now for allmost seven years,
one night he asked if she would marry him,
she said "of course my darling, but i've a secret to tell you",
"i support the Celtic and i'm a tim"

he sat there for a moment, he didn't know what to say,
he tought, i've just asked this fenian cow to wed,
she asked "is there a problem, are you marrying me or not",
he turned to her, and these are the words he said,

"when the pope becomes a proddy,
when the nuns show off thier body's,
when the priests start singin the sash,
in other words, ya fenian, kiss my ass"

She told him she still loved him and anything she would do,
she didn't want the two of them to part,
that she'd go from here to hell for him and stick to him like glue,
and not to leave her with a broken heart,

he said "you crazy woman, you just don't understand,
i love my religion more than you,
i couldn't walk old Ulsters streets with a fenian on my arm,
that is something i will never do"

she told him she would go to church and talk to the minister there,
and tell him, her religion she wants to change,
he said "your just not listening, i will never marry you,
you'd still have fenian blood running through your viens",

"when the pope becomes a proddy,
when the nuns show off thier body's,
when the priests start singin the sash,
in other words, ya fenian, kiss my ass"

its here this story ends now, a decision this man did make,
he knew that marrying her would never work,
he's decided that the two of them must go thier seperate ways,
that's why he told this fenian tae get tae fuck,

so listen loyal protestants, if your going out on a date,
you could end up taking a tim into your bed,
SO, ask her right away if she's a proddy or a taig?,
remember what the man from Ulster said,

"when the pope becomes a proddy,
when the nuns show off thier body's,
when the priests start singin the sash,
in other words, ya fenian, kiss my ass"

"when the pope becomes a proddy,
when the nuns show off thier body's,
when the priests start singin the sash,
in other words, ya fenian, kiss my ass"

"in other words, ya fenian, kiss my ass"

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Sham the fight at Scarva, 13th July

One night as I lay on my bed
I thought that I would try
To write a few loyal verses
The Thirteenth of July.

In Scarva town of high renown,
That place I hold most dear,
The Grand Sir Knight of Israel's camp
Do meet there once a year.

To the memory of King William
All loyal men do join,
To see King James defeated
At the battle of the Boyne.

A Sham Fight there takes place
In memory of the day
That we freed from Popery
And gained our liberty.

With Bands and Banners marching
Through Buller's fair Demesne,
And loyal sisters join with us,
And each year do the same.

Here's to Sir Knight Sir Norman Stronge
That man of high renown,
Long may be lead the Grand Sir Knights
Through Scarva's loyal town.

With the Churches on the hill
And the Orange Hall by the lane,
That leads the Grand Procession
Through Scarva's fine Demesne.

Now ye loyal sons of Scarva,
One thousand R.B.P.,
Remember your forefathers
That fought for liberty.

You always make us welcome,
Let it be wet or dry,
For the great historic Sham Fight
On the Thirteenth of July.

May you always still remember,
That place of noted fame,
So join with the Grand Sir Knights
Through Buller's fair Demesne.

With Banbridge town and Portadown
And Tandragee so fair,
And Newry with their colours bright,
Blow proudly in the air.

And Markethill, with a free will,
Together with us join
In memory of that day
King William crossed the Boyne.

Now I'll bid farewell to Scarva men,
All honour to them due,
To R.B.P. One Thousand,
Of Gideon's Chosen Few.

Now to the Buller family -
I cannot pass them by -
The gates are opened wide to them
For the Thirteenth of July.

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Shankill to the Somme

At the age of sixteen years, well he left his home in tears,
His mother watched as he walked out the door,
And as his family bade farewell, and his neighbours wished him well,
From the road his dad and brother took before.

And as the ship set sail for France, he gave Belfast one more glance,
As the ship began to move away from shore,
He could see there on the land, the proud YCV flute band,
And he could hear them play The Sash My Father Wore.

Oh, from the Shankill Road they went,
Oh, thier young lives to be spent,
On the first day of July so long Ago,
And for the deeds that they have done,
And the glories they have won,
We remember as long as the bright red poppy's grow.

When they charged fom Thiepval wood,
They were in a fighting mood,
As they made thier way across the fields of fire,
And as they stormed the great redoubt,
You could hear those brave men shout,
To have them lie beneath the twisted shells and wire

Oh, from the Shankill Road they went,
Oh, thier young lives to be spent,
On the first day of July so long Ago,
And for the deeds that they have done,
And the glories they have won,
We remember as long as the bright red poppy's grow.

As the ship set sail for France, he gave Belfast one more glance,
As the ship began to move away from shore,
He could see there on the land, the proud YCV flute band,
And he could hear them play The Sash My Father Wore.

And from the Shankill Road they went,
Oh, thier young lives to be spent,
On the first day of July so long Ago,
And for the deeds that they have done,
And the glories they have won,
We remember as long as the bright red poppy's grow.

Yet from the Shankill Road they went,
Oh, thier young lives to be spent,
On the first day of July so long Ago,
And for the deeds that they have done,
And the glories they have won,
We remember as long as the bright red poppy's grow.

We remember as long as the bright red poppy's grow.

We remember as long as the bright red poppy's grow.

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Shutting the gates of Derry

Full many a long wild winter's night
And sultry summer's day
Are past and gone since James took flight
From Derry Walls away.
Cold are the hands that closed that gate
Against the wily foe
But here to Time's remotest date,
Their spirit still shall glow.

So here's a health to all good men,
Now fearless friends are few.
But when we close our gates against
We'll then be all True Blue.
Lord Antrim's men came down yon glen
With drums and trumpets gay
Our 'Prentice Boys just heard the noise
And then prepared for play.

While some opposed, the gates they closed,
And joining hand-in-hand
Before the wall resolved to fall
Or for their freedom stand,
When honour calls to Derry Walls,
The noble and the brave,
Oh! He that in the battle falls
Must find a hero's grave.

Then came the hot and doubtful fray,
With many a mortal wound;
While thousands in wild war's array,
Stood marshaled all around.
Each hill and plain was strewed with slain
The Foyle ran red with blood;
But all was vain the town to gain
Here William's standard stood.

Renowned are they who face their foes
As men and heros should;
But let the slave steal to his grave
Who fears to shed his blood,
The matchless deeds of those who here
Defied the tyrant 's frown
On historys bright rolls appear
Emblazoned in renown.

Here deathless Walker's faithful word
Sent hosts against the foe
And gallant Murray's bloody sword
The Gallic chief laid low,
We honor those heroic dead,
Their glorious memory;
May we, who stand here in their stead
As wise and valliant be!

Oh! Sure a heart of stone would melt,
The scenes once here to see:
And witness all our fathers felt,
To make their country free
They saw the lovely matron's cheek
With want and terror pale
They heard the child's expiring shriek,
Float on the passing gale!

Yet here they stood in field of blood,
As battle raged around
Resolved to die till victory
Their purple standard crowned.
The sacred rights these heroes gained
In many a hard fought day
Shall they by us be still maintained
Or basely cast away?

Shall rebels vile rule o'er our isle,
And call it all their own?
Oh, surely no! The faithless foe
Must bend before the throne
Then here's a health to all good men,
To all good men and true;
And when we close our gates again,
We'll then be all True Blue.

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Soldier in the Station

In a station in the city a British soldier stood
Talking to the people there if the people would
Some just stared in hatred, and others turned in pain
And the lonely British soldier wished he was back home again

Come join the British Army! said the posters in his town
See the world and have your fun come serve before the Crown
The jobs were hard to come by and he could not face the dole
So he took his country's shilling and enlisted on the roll

For there was no fear of fighting, the Empire long was lost
Just ten years in the army getting paid for being bossed
Then leave a man experienced a man who's made the grade
A medal and a pension some mem'ries and a trade

Then came the call to Ireland as the call had come before
Another bloody chapter in an endless civil war
The priests they stood on both sides the priests they stood behind
Another fight in Jesus' name the blind against the blind

The soldier stood between them, between the whistling stones
And then the broken bottles that led to broken bones
The petrol bombs that burnt his hands the nails that pierced his skin
And wished that he had stayed at home surrounded by his kin

The station filled with people the soldier soon was bored
But better in the station than where the people warred
The room filled up with mothers with daughters and with sons
Who stared with itchy fingers at the soldier and his guns

A yell of fear a screech of brakes the shattering of glass
The window of the station broke to let the package pass
A scream came from the mothers as they ran towards the door
Dragging children crying from the bomb upon the floor

The soldier stood and could not move his gun he could not use
He knew the bomb had seconds and not minutes on the fuse
He could not run to pick it up and throw it in the street
There were far too many people there too many running feet

Take cover! yelled the soldier, Take cover for your lives
And the Irishmen threw down their young and stood before their wives
They turned towards the soldier their eyes alive with fear
For God's sake save our children or they'll end their short lives here

The soldier moved towards the bomb his stomach like a stone
Why was this his battle God why was he alone
He lay down on the package and he murmured one farewell
To those at home in England to those he loved so well

He saw the sights of summer felt the wind upon his brow
The young girls in the city parks how precious were they now
The soaring of the swallow the beauty of the swan
The music of the turning earth so soon would it be gone

A muffled soft explosion and the room began to quake
The soldier blown across the floor his blood a crimson lake
They never heard him cry or shout, they never heard him moan
And they turned their children's faces from the blood and from the bones

The crowd outside soon gathered and the ambulances came
To carry off the body of a pawn lost in the game
And the crowd they clapped and cheered and they sang their rebel songs
One soldier less to interfere where he did not belong

And will the children growing up learn at their mothers' knees
The story of the soldier who bought their liberty
Who used his youthful body as a means towards an end
Who gave his life to those who called him murderer not friend

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Some gave all

I had a friend called Trevor King a lot of people new his name,
And a friend to all was he,
A volunteer right from the start,
He fought for Ulster with all his heart,
Just to keep his province free,
I wont forget the day that he died,
I wont forget the look in his eye,
Or these words that he said to me.

All gave some, Some gave all,
Some came through for the red white and blue,
Some had to fall,
So if you ever think of me,
Think of all your liberties, and recall,
That some gave all.

Trevor King is no longer hee, but his words ring oh so clear,
And they travel, across our land,
For his friends he gave his all, stood his ground and took the fall
Just to help his fellow man,
So love your country and live it proud,
And dont forget all those men who died,
My people can you see.

All gave some, Some gave all,
Some came through for the red white and blue,
Some had to fall,
So if you ever think of me,
Think of all your liberties, and recall,
That some gave all.

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Sons, whose sires with William bled

Sons, whose sires with William bled,
Offspring of the mighty dead,
When the Popish tyrants fled,
And this fair land left free.
Yield not now to Popish guile,
trust them least when most they smile,
Sun the crafty fowler's toil,
And keep your liberty.

Loud and high their clamours rise
Of pretended miseries;
The Papish creed is only lies,
Which none but fools believe.
All the generous lion can,
That belongs of right to man
Britain puts within their span
And they ingrate receive.

Now they whine as "bondsmen" poor;
Now they boast their millions o'er
And forth the Popish rent they pour
For pike and murder given.
Firm ye sons of Britain, firm
Shrink not from the gatherin' storm,
Let it come in any form
Our battle-word is --Heaven.

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Suicide Battalion

Proudly they guard this land from shore to shore
Bravley they stand for Ulster evermore
Secret in deeds courage is the test
Of the suicide battalion of the U.V.F

They fought and they won the battle of the some
But for Blair and Dublin the fight will still go on
For God and for ULster is cast on every breath
Of the suicide battalion of the U.V.F

And some day soon they'll go proudly on parade
Shoulder to shoulder right up the Shankill Road
Loudly we'll cheer the heroes of the west
The suicide battalion of the U.V.F

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Sweeney's

Now come listen to my words, verse or two I'll say,
In memory of these men, who fight for us today,
Across the streets of Ulster, the faithful and the few,
But the bravest of them all are the men in number two.

If Ulster had been traitors, when Britain went to war,
We,d be much better thought of, much better than we are,
Sinn Fein they are applauded for the deeds that they will do,
But there's no applause from Britain, for the men of number two.

So come and stand in memory, for those who fought and died,
Who gave their lives for Ulster, come remember them with pride,
Come and stand in memory, together me and you,
With Frenchie and with Herbie, and the men in number two.

We'll stand firm here in Ulster, for upon some future day,
She may rue this great betrayal. and perhaps it is to late,
And once again have cause to call upon the chosen few,
The Ulster Volunteers, and the men in number two.

So come and stand in memory for those who fought and died,
Who gave their lives for Ulster, come remember them with pride,
Come and stand in memory, together me and you,
With Frenchie and with Herbie, and the men in number two.

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Sweeney's Number two Platoon of the U.V.F

Proudly they guard this land from shore to shore,
Bravley they stand for Ulster evermore,
Secret thier deeds thier courage is the test,
Of the Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.

They fought and they won the battle of the somme,
For Blair and Dublin the fight has just begun,
For God and for ULster is cast on every breath,
Of the Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.

And some day soon we'll march proudly on parade,
Shoulder to shoulder right up the Shankill Road,
How proudly we'll cheer the heroes of the west,
The Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.

For freedom we'll fight, we'll fight with all our might,
The IRA, INLA will know whats wrong or right,
For God and for Ulster who's cast on every breath,
Of the Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.

And some day soon we'll march proudly on parade
Shoulder to shoulder right up the Shankill Road
How proudly we'll cheer the heroes of the west
The Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.

Oh well, we chased King James and all his gang up agianst those Derry's wall's,
We chased the IRA up the Crumlin and the Falls,
And we rallied round the Shankill with the voice of Ulsters cause,
The heroes of the U.V.F.

Oh, Glory Glory, to the Red hand,
Glory Glory to our whole Land,
Oh, Glory Glory to that gallant band,
The heroes of the U.V.F.

Now you've heard of Major Boyle, Lieutenant Joey Long and Corporal Jimmy McGregor,
From the heart of Belfast town,
And every Loyalist prisoner in the Crumlin and Long Kesh,
The heroes of the U.V.F.

Oh, Glory Glory, to the Red hand,
Glory Glory to our whole Land,
Oh, Glory Glory to that gallant band,
The heroes of the U.V.F.

From the richest to the poorest, the east and from the west,
We'll fight for the cause of Ulster to we guard that grave,
We'll blast our way through the IRA till theres no rebel left,
The heroes of the U.V.F.

Oh, Glory Glory, to the Red hand,
Glory Glory to our whole Land,
Oh, Glory Glory to that gallant band,
The heroes of the U.V.F.

Oh, Glory Glory, to the Red hand,
Glory Glory to our whole Land,
Oh, Glory Glory to that gallant band,
The heroes of the U.V.F.

It's the heroes of the U.V.F.

Oh yes the heroes of the U.V.F.

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Sweeney's Team

I still recall the moment, when my father went away,
They locked him up in Long Kesh, For being Loyal so they say,
I heard he was a hero, in the U.V.F it seems,
They told me to be proud of him, to hold on to his dream,
So I took the oath and joined them,
The men in Sweeneys Team.

The years went by so quickly, and they set my father free,
We'd hardly been together, when the Bastards got to me,
I became a Loyalist Prisoner, as my father had before,
I learned the price of freedom, at the slamming of the door ,
And my love for Ulster lived with me, even in these cells.

Say it loud, Say it Clear,
I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer,
Proud to be, a Y.C.V,
And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.

My father came to see me, as often as he could,
His knowledge was astounding, his advice was always good,
Remember where you come from, keep your head held high,
Be proud of your history, Ulsters flag must fly,
And if you don't give up don't give in, you'll win the fight some day.

Say it loud, Say it Clear,
I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer,
Proud to be, a Y.C.V,
And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.

I wasn't there that evening, when my father passed away,
And though he hadn't spoken, I knew just what he'd say,
Be true to your religion, Remember Queen and Crown,
Always love your comrades, never let them down,
Thats what he would have told me, in the living years.

Say it loud, Say it Clear,
I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer,
Proud to be, a Y.C.V,
And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.

Say it loud, Say it Clear,
I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer,
Proud to be, a Y.C.V,
And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.

Say it loud, Say it Clear,
I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer,
Proud to be, a Y.C.V,
And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.

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