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Penny Arcade
A light shown in the night some way ahead,
blue turned into green then it was red
And stirring the night love music played
the light I saw in the night was a penny arcade
Step up and play each machine seemed to say,
as I walked round and round the penny arcade
Just ring the bell on the big bagatelle
and youll make all those colored lights cascade
And music played at the penny arcade,
yes it played and it played, played all the time
Roll up and spend your last dime
At first I thought it a dream that I was in,
lost, lost in a sea of glass and tin
But no, so dipping my hand in the back of my jeans
I grabbed a handful of coins to feed the machine
Step up and play each machine seemed to say,
as I walked round and round the penny arcade
Just ring the bell on the big bagatelle
and youll make all those colored lights cascade
And music played at the penny arcade,
yes it played and it played, played all the time
Roll up and spend your last dime
And music played at the penny arcade,
yes it played and it played, played all the time
Roll up and spend your last dime
So, step up and play each machine seemed to say,
as I walked round and round the penny arcade
Just ring the bell on the big bagatelle
and youll make all those colored lights cascade
And music played at the penny arcade,
yes it played and it played, played all the time
Roll up and spend your last dime
Step up and play each machine seemed to say,
as I walked round and round the penny arcade
Just ring the bell on the big bagatelle
and youll make all those colored lights cascade
And music played at the penny arcade,
yes it played and it played, played all the time
Roll up and spend your last dime
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People of East Belfast
If ever you come over to the East end of the town,
You'll meet some loyal people there who'll never let you down,
Prepare to fight for Ulster for the Queen and for the crown,
Their the people of East Belfast.
Glory Glory Hallelujah,
They will tell the story to ya,
Glory Glory Hallelujah,
Their the people of East Belfast.
There's Shankill Road and Sandy Row and Newtonards Road too,
And many other loyal places, that are staunch and true,
We all will be united, and our pledges we'll renew,
To the people of East Belfast.
Glory Glory Hallelujah,
They will tell the story to ya,
Glory Glory Hallelujah,
Their the people of East Belfast.
The fight for Ulster's on now, be ready for the fray,
We'll keep our standerds flying high, for we will win the day,
And side by side with vangaurd, UVF and UDA,
Will be the people of East Belfast.
Glory Glory Hallelujah,
They will tell the story to ya,
Glory Glory Hallelujah,
Their the people of East Belfast.
Glory Glory Hallelujah,
They will tell the story to ya,
Glory Glory Hallelujah,
Their the people of East Belfast.
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People of the Shankill Road
I Know a road, a little place,
Known far and wide, with the highest praise,
Down by the shops, where the whole world goes,
Where the good prods flock, on the Shankill Road.
We're proud to be, Red, White and Blue,
No other colours, will ever do,
Down that sweet spot, where freedom goes,
Down by the gods gate, on the Shankill Road.
Take heed with us, lift bomb and gun, those IRA SCUM,
But the roar cried out, you'll not murder me,
For i was born, to be always free.
We're proud to be, Red, White and Blue,
No other colours, will ever do,
Down that sweet spot, where freedom goes,
Down by the gods gate, on the Shankill Road.
So wander down, tween 12 and 1,
We watch the vermin, what they have done,
To see the spirit, that we all know,
Oh thank god, for the Shankill Road.
We're proud to be, Red, White and Blue,
No other colours, will ever do,
Down that sweet spot, where freedom goes,
Down by the gods gate, on the Shankill Road.
So wander down, tween 12 and 1,
We watch the vermin, what they have done,
To see the spirit, that we all know,
Oh thank god, for the Shankill Road.
Oh thank god, for the Shankill Road.
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Pittance of time
They fought and some died for their homeland
They fought and some died now it’s our land
Look at his little child, there’s no fear in her eyes
Could he not show respect for other dads who have died?
Take two minutes, would you mind?
It’s a pittance of time
For the boys and the girls who went over
In peace may they rest, may we never forget why they died.
It’s a pittance of time
God forgive me for wanting to strike him
Give me strength so as not to be like him
My heart pounds in my breast, fingers pressed to my lips
My throat wants to bawl out, my tongue barely resists
But two minutes I will bide
It’s a pittance of time
For the boys and the girls who went over
In peace may they rest, may we never forget why they died.
It’s a pittance of time
Read the letters and poems of the heroes at home
They have casualties, battles, and fears of their own
There’s a price to be paid if you go, if you stay
Peace is fought for and won in numerous ways
Take two minutes would you mind?
It’s a pittance of time
For the boys and the girls all over
May we never forget our young become vets
At the end of the line it’s a pittance of time
It takes courage to fight in your own war
It takes courage to fight someone else’s war
Our peacekeepers tell of their own living hell
They bring hope to foreign lands that the hatemongers can’t kill.
Take two minutes, would you mind?
It’s a pittance of time
For the boys and the girls who go over
In peacetime our best still don battle dress
And lay their lives on the line.
It’s a pittance of time
In Peace may they rest, lest we forget why they died.
Take a pittance of time
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Poppy Fields
In a town just north of Belfast ,
the white houses row on row,
there was raised an Ulster family,
how proudly they did grow.
Now the proud and happy parents,
watched their son grow to a man,
and they taught him truth and justice,
in this part of Ulsters land.
One day their came a letter,
With his comrades he would go,
To a land across the water,
where the tears and blood would flow.
So he bade farewell to Ulster,
and next morning at the dawn,
a broken hearted mother,
Sent her son off to the SOMME.
One night as she lay sleeping,
in a dream there at the door,
stood a handsome looking soldier,
the KIng's colours he had on.
He said mother don't ye know me,
let me in I'm feelin' cold,
but the crimson blood upon his chest ,
his fateful story told.
In a town just north of Belfast,
where a father proudly cried,
and a broken hearted mother,
wiped the tears falling from her eyes,
At a graveyard full of people,
the white crosses row on row,
where he sleeps beside this comrades now,
in a fields where the red Poppies grow .
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Portadown
In sixteen hundred and forty one those fenians formed a plan
To massacre us Protestants down by the River Bann
To massacre us Protestants and not to spare a man
But to drive us down like a heard of swine into the River Bann
Brave Porter fell a victim, because he did intend
To help his brother Protestants heir lives for to defend
The blood did stain the waters red, their bones lay all around
As they drove them down into the Bann that flows Through Portadown
A lady living in Loughgall and with her children five
She begged for the sake of them to let her be alive
That she might go to England her husband there to see
And to live in peace and unity and far from Popery
But O they would not hear her cry, they placed her on the ground
And after having tortured her the six of them they bound
They said you are a heretic, the Pope you do defy
And its from this bridge in Portadown this day your doom to die.
And after having tortured her to a pain she could not stand
Down through the streets of Portadown they dragged her to the Bann
OShane appointed as her guard to guide her on her way
And the thought of five young children was leading her astray
At least the hundred faithful souls in Portadown were slain
All were the deeds of Popery their wicked words to gain
But god sent down brave Cromwell our Deliverer to be
And he put down Popery in this land us Protestants set free
King William soon came after him and planted at the Boyne
An Orange Tree there that we should bear in mind
How Popery did murder us Protestants did drown
The bones of some can still be seen this day in Portadown.
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Price
The price we've paid to gain some peace
To make the bombs and killings cease
The price we've paid with blood and tears
Defending Ulster all these years.
The price that means we've had to bear
An IRA man for Lord Mayor
The price that let our enemy install
The foeighn flag on City Hall.
The price for entering into talks
Is banned parades and Orange walks
The price that strengthened Sinn Fein's hand
That made the RUC disband.
The price may prove to be too high
The peace process could be another lie
The price that we could sadly pay
Could see the end of our UK.
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Protestant Boys
The Protestant Boys are Loyal and True,
Stout-hearted in battle and stout-handed too;
The Protestant Boys are true to the last,
And faithful and peaceful when danger has passed.
And oh! they bear
And proudly wear
The colours that floated o'er many a fray,
Where cannons were flashing
And sabres were clashing,
And Protestant boys still carried the day.
When James half a bigot, and more of a knave,
With masses and Frenchmen and land would enslave;
The Protestant boys for liberty drew
And showed with the Orange their Banner of Blue.
And Derry well
Their might can tell,
Who first in their ranks did the Orange display;
The Boyne had no shyers,
And Aughrim no flyers,
And Protestant boys still carried the day.
When treason was rampant and traitors were strong,
And law was defied by a vile rebel throng,
When thousands were banded the throne to cast down,
The Protestants rallied and stood by the Crown.
And oft in fight,
By day and night,
They 'countered the rebels in many a fray,
Where red pikes were bristling,
And bullets were whistling,
And Protestant boys still carried the day.
And still does the fame of their glory remain,
Unclouded by age and undimmed by a stain;
And ever and ever their cause we'll uphold -
The cause of the true and the trusted and bold.
And scorn to yield,
Or quit the field,
While over our heads the old colours play,
And traitors shall tremble
Whene'er we assemble,
For Protestant boys shall carry the day.
The Protestant boys are loyal and true,
Though fashions are changed and the loyal are few,
The Protestant boys are true to the last,
Though cowards belie them when danger has past.
Aye! still we stand,
A loyal band,
And reck not the liars whatever they say;
For let the drums rattle
The summons to battle,
The Protestant boys must carry the day.
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