Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Old Orange Flute, artist - The Clancy Brothers.
Date of issue: 14.04.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
The 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 Papish 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» |