| Oh, my father was an Ulster man, proud Protestant was he
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| My mother was a Catholic and from County Cork was she
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| They were married in two churches, and lived happily enough
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| Until the day that I was born, and things got rather tough
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| Baptized by Father Reilly, I was rushed away by car
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| To be made a little orange man, my father’s shining star
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| I was christened David Anthony, but still in spite of that
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| To my father I was Billy while my mother called me Pat
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| Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen
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| My father was an orange man, my mother she was green
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| Now, with mother every Sunday to Mass I’d proudly stroll
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| And after that the orange lads would try to save my soul
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| And both sides tried to claim me but I was smart because
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| I’d play the flute or play the harp depending where I was
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| And when I’d sing those rebel songs, much to my mother’s joy
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| My father would jump up and say, «Look here, come here me boy!
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| That’s quite enough of that, lad,» he’d toss me o’er a coin
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| He’d have me sing «The Orange Flute» and «The Heroes of the Boyne»
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| Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen
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| My father was an orange man, my mother she was green
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| One day my ma’s relations came 'round to visit me
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| Just as my father’s kinfolk were sitting down to tea;
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| We tried to smooth things over; | 
| they all began to fight
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| And me being strictly neutral, I kicked everyone in sight
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| My parents never could agree about my type of school
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| My learning was all done at home; | 
| that’s why I’m such a fool
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| They’ve both passed on, God rest them, but I was left between
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| That awful color problem of the orange and the green
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| Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen
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| My father was an orange man, my mother she was green
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| Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen
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| My father was an orange man, my mother she was green |