There is no lyric sheet with the CD. However, my friend Phil Beck in Perth has made a transcription. Here is what he hears - corrections are welcomed:

BY IBROX PARK

Driving down by Ibrox Park
One grey November afternoon
Where concrete tower blocks grim and dark defy the sun and the moon
I saw a host of working men make their way decked in Empire blue
And I thought about when it all began in 1822

Chorus: Bang the drum and wave the flag
Let them know who's king of the pile of slag
Though poverty sits at our door
With dour Jock like some ill throckett dog
We'll make it cower in the golden hour
When we go marching around the bog

Carried back in a waking dream
I heard the strains of a reform song
From our past thick as clotted cream I saw them marching strong
Workers bent on liberty circled round by the Orange crew
Drunk with hatred and bigotry
And the old red white and blue

Chorus

Snail pace slow through the human sea
I inched my way past the football stand
With half my mind lost to reverie on days gone far from hand
To Goven Streets 1831
The Duke of Gordon he paid the fee
And hired thugs from the Orange clan
Made reformers blood run free

Chorus

Driving down by the Ibrox Park
A wave of sadness it drenched my soul
From concrete tower blocks grim and dark
Come sights I cannae thole ['thole' means 'stand or bear']
In childhood's dreams I've scaled the wall
Well skeined by empires to call us back
And my hair thin falls watching Cowan's braw
And by the Union Jack

Final chorus: Scorn the drum and burn the flag
Tell them what to do with their pile of slag
Nae more we'll slumber in poverty
Or feed our bairns towards ill throckett dog
Let masters cower in the golden hour
When we come marching out frae the bog
When we come marching out frae the bog

--Stewie.