Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen. My father, he was Orange and me mother, she was green. My father was an Ulster man, proud Protestant was he. My mother was a Catholic girl, from county Cork was she. They were married in two churches, lived happily enough, Until the day that I was born and things got rather tough. Baptized by Father Riley, I was rushed away by car, To be made a little Orangeman, my fathers shining star. I was christened David Anthony, but still, inspite of that, To me father, I was William, while my mother called me Pat. With Mother every Sunday, to Mass Id proudly stroll. Then after that, the Orange lodge would try to save my soul. For both sides tried to claim me, but i was smart because Id play the flute or play the harp, depending where I was. Now when Id sing those rebel songs, much to me mothers joy, Me father would jump up and say, Look here would you me boy. Thats quite enough of that lot, hed then toss me a coin And hed have me sing the Orange Flute or the Heros of The Boyne One day me Mas relations came round to visit me. Just as my fathers kinfolk were all sitting down to tea. We tried to smooth things over, but they all began to fight. And me, being strictly neutral, I bashed everyone in sight. My parents never could agree about my type of school. My learning was all done at home, thats why Im such a fool. Theyve both passed on, God rest em, but left me caught between That awful color problem of the Orange and the Green.
Posted on: Thu, 27 Nov 2014 20:09:08 +0000
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