Текст Stan Rogers – The House Of Orange

I took back my hand and I showed him the door
No dollar of mine would I part with this day
For fueling the engines of bloody cruel war
In my forefather’s land far away

Who fled the first Famine wearing all that they owned
Were called ‘Navigators’, all ragged and torn
And built the Grand Trunk here, and found a new home
Wherever their children were born

Their sons have no politics. None call recall
Allegiance from long generations before
O’this or O’that name just can’t mean a thing
Or be cause enough for to war

And meanwhile my babies are safe in their home
Unlike their pale cousins who shiver and cry
While kneecappers nail their poor Dads to the floor
And teach them to hate and to die

It’s those cruel beggars who spurn the fair coin
The peace for their kids they could take at their will
Since the day old King Billy prevailed at the Boyne
They’ve bombed and they’ve slain and they’ve killed

Now they cry out for money and wail at the door
But Home Rule or Republic, ’tis all of it shame
And a curse for us here who want nothing of war
We’re kindred in nothing but name

All rights and all wrongs have long since blown away
For causes are ashes where children lie slain
Yet the damned U.D.I and the cruel I.R.A
Will tomorrow go murdering again
But no penny of mine will I add to the fray
«Remember the Boyne!» they will cry out in vain