THE STREETS OF BELFAST

In 1916, did you stand up like a man?
In 1920, did you fight the black and tans?
Were you a rebel? Did you fight for Ireland then?
And if you did, will you stand by her once again?

There's war in the streets of Belfast.
Men are dying who want to be free.
Won't you please lend a hand to help ol' Ireland?
Won't you join in the fight for liberty?

We've heard the legends, of the men who dealt the blow
Against the tyrants at the Dublin GPO.
Is that all over? Is that noble spirit dead?
Can you forget the cause for which they fought and bled?

The troubles are back up in Ulster.
Everybody seems caught in the snare.
The kids all look old. The cowards all act bold,
While the gunmen have gone on a tear.

Don't go to Ulster unless your body's bulletproof.
The British army, they're allergic to the truth.
They'll colonize you, patronize you, make you run.
They'll civilize you with the barrel of a gun.

The Queen of England came over to Belfast.
She was guarded by thirty thousand men.
Well they kept her out of sight, told her everything's all right,
Then they shipped her home to England again.

Old Ian Paisley, he's got trouble on his hands.
He doesn't know it, but there's a thousand Bobby Sands.
They'll fight for Ireland, and of that there is no doubt,
Until Ulster's free again and the Brits are out.

The Orangemen think they can win it.
"No surrender" is all they can say,
But with each passing hour, the lose a bit more power,
While Ulster gets more Irish by the day.

Go home, John Bull, and take all your soldiers.
Take your Paisleys, your Thatchers and knaves,
For you've had lots of fun, but your empire is done,
And you'll have to look elsewhere for slaves.