Luyện nghe bài hát The Old Orange Flute

The Old Orange
In the county Tyrone, in the town of
Where many a meself had a hand in
Bob Williamson lived there, a weaver by
And all of us thought him a blade.
On the twelfth of July as it yearly did
Bob played on the flute to the sound of the
You can talk of your fiddles, harp or your lute
But there's nothing sound like the Old Orange Flute.
But the treacherous scoundrel, he us all in
For he married a named Bridget McGinn
Turned Papish and forsook the Old Cause
gave us our freedom, religion and laws.
And the in the county made such a stir on it
They forced Bob to flee to the province of
with him his wife and his fixins, to boot,
And along with the rest went the Old Flute.
Each at mass, to atone for past deeds,
Bob Paters and Aves and counted his beads
Till one morn, at the priest's own require
Bob went for to play with the in the choir.
He went for to play with the flutes in the
But the instrument and cried."O Alas!"
And blow as he would, though he a great noise,
The flute would play only "The Boys".
Bob up and huffed, and was all in a flutter.
He the old flute in the best holy water;
He thought that this charm bring some other sound,
he tried it again, it played "Croppies Lie Down!"
And for all he would finger and twiddle and
For to play Papish music, the would not go;
"Kick the Pope" to "Boyne Water" was all it would
Not one Papish bleat in it e'er be found.
At a council of priests was held the next day
They decided to the Old Flute away;
They couldn't heresy out of its head
So they Bob another to play in its stead.
And the Old was doomed, and its fate was pathetic
'Twas fastened and at the stake as heretic.
As the flames around it, you could hear a strange noise
'Twas the Old Flute still a-whistlin' "The Boys".
Note: the tune Protestant Boys is also known as RG
Recorded by Patric Galvin,
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