Wow. It must be all of forty years since one Paddy Doody sang me:
One sunday morning while on my way to mass I met a bloody orangeman and asked him for his pass I asked him for his pass my boy and sent his soul to hell And when he returned he had a strange tale to tell
If I had a yard of an orangeman's skin I'd turn it to drum for the bold fenian men And when the pipes did whistle and the band began to play We'd all march to mass on St Patrick's day
I don't think I ever had this written down and it may or may not be totally accurate.