THE AULD ORANGE FLUTE 3/4
In the (C)county Tyrone, in the (G)town of Dun(C)gannon
Where many a (Am)ruction me(G)self had a hand in
Bob (C)Williamson lived there, a (F)weaver by (C)trade
And all of us (G)thought him a stout Orange (C)blade.
On the twelfth of Ju(Em)ly as
it (F)yearly did come
Bob (C)played on the flute to the (G7)sound of the drum
You can (C)talk of your fiddles, your (F)harp or your (C)lute
But nothing could sound like the (G)Old Orange (C)Flute.
But the treacherous scoundrel, he took us all in
For he married
a Papish named Bridget McGinn
Turned Papish himself and forsook the Old Cause
That gave us our freedom, religion and
And the boys in the county made noise upon it
They forced Bob to flee to the province of Connaught;
him his wife and his fixins, to boot,
And along with the rest went the Old Orange Flute.
the instrument shivered and sighed and then coughed
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
He went for to play with the flutes in the choir.
He went with the old flute to play
in the loft
When he blew it and fingered it, it made a strange noise
flute would play only "The Protestant Boys".
Bob jumped up and started, and got 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 all he did whistle, and finger and blow
For to play Papish music, the flute would not go;
the Pope", "The Boyne Water", and such like ‘twould sound
Not one Papish bleat in it could e´er be found.
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 it instead.
And the Old Flute was doomed, and its fate was pathetic
´Twas fastened and burnt at the stake
As the flames rose around it, you could hear a strange noise
´Twas the Old Flute still a-whistlin´ "The