The Dubliners - Auld orange flute

In the ^CCounty Tyrone, near the ^Gtown of Dun^Cgannon, Where many the ^Amructions me^Gself had a hand in. Bob ^CWilliamson lived, a ^Fweaver by ^Ctrade, And all of us ^Gthought him a stout Orange ^Cblade, On the Twelfth of Ju^Emly as it ^Fyearly did come, Bob ^Cplayed with his flute to the ^G7sound of a drum. You may ^Ctalk of your harp, your ^Fpiano or ^Clute, But none can compare with the ^GOld Orange ^CFlute.

^CBob, the deceiver, he ^Gtook us all ^Cin; He married a ^AmPapist named ^GBridget McGinn. Turned ^CPapist himself and for^Fsook the old ^Ccause That gave us our ^Gfreedom, religion and ^Claws. Now, boys of the ^Emtownland made ^Fsome noise upon it, And ^CBob had to fly to the ^G7province of Connaught. He ^Cfled with his wife and his ^Ffixings to ^Cboot, And along with the latter his ^GOld Orange ^CFlute.

At the ^Cchapel on Sunday to ^Gatone for past ^Cdeeds, He'd say Pater and ^AmAves and ^Gcounted his brown beads. 'Til ^Cafter some time, at the ^Fpriest's own ^Cdesire He went with that old flute to ^Gplay in the ^Cchoir. He went with that old ^Emflute for to ^Fplay for the Mass, But the ^Cinstrument shivered and ^G7sighed, oh, alas, And ^Ctry though he would, though it ^Fmade a great ^Cnoise, The flute would play only "The ^GProtestant ^CBoys."

Bob ^Cjumped and he stared and ^Ggot in a ^Cflutter And threw the ^Amold flute in the ^Gblessed holy water. He ^Cthought that this charm would bring ^Fsome other ^CSound; When he tried it again, it played "^GCroppies Lie ^CDown." Now, for all he could ^Emwhistle and ^Ffinger and blow, To ^Cplay Papish music he ^G7found it no go. "Kick the ^CPope" and "The Boyne Water" it ^Ffreely would ^CSound, But one Papish squeak in it ^Gcouldn't be ^Cfound.

At the ^Ccouncil of priests that was ^Gheld the next ^Cday They decided to ^Ambanish the ^Gold flute away. They ^Ccouldn't knock heresy ^Fout of it's ^Chead, So they bought Bob a ^Gnew one to play in it's ^Cstead. Now, the old flute was ^Emdoomed, and its ^Ffate was pathetic 'Twas ^Cfastened and burned at the ^G7stake as a heretic. As the ^Cflames soared around it, they ^Fheard a strange ^CNoise; 'Twas the old flute still whistling "The ^GProtestant ^CBoys."

"Toora ^Flu, toora ^Clay, Oh, it's six miles from Bangor to ^GDonnaha^Cdee."