Hi Bonnie, I've had a go at transcribing it from Mickey's recording.

FOLLOW THE FLAG
(Mickey MacConnell)

The lad was fourteen when his daddy came home
Eyes blackened, his fists cut and bleeding’
‘If you follow the flag, son’, his daddy said then
‘There’s no small loss of blood you’ll be heeding’
There are guns in the night soon and bombs in the dawn
His whole small terraced world was aflame
Wide awake in his bed, blankets over his head
He learned ‘follow the flag’ was the game

He had just turned eighteen came a knock on the door
And the lads there they asked him to join
To follow his father and grandad before
All his folks since the days of the Boyne
And his knuckles were white, his eyes glittering and bright
As he tied the old oath to new name
For he knew what to do and what must be done true
When ‘follow the flag’ was the game

But which flag did he follow, was it green, white and gold
Or was it the red, white and blue
The harp or the lily, King James or King Billy
That’s the riddle I’m leaving with you

At age twenty-one, he slept with a gun
And he’d sent many men to their tombs
There was ice in his eyes, there was blood on his hands
His mere whisper could seal a man’s doom
And he led men much older because he was bolder
From his comrades he won great acclaim
A price on his head either living or dead
Proved that ‘follow the flag’ was his game

At age twenty-six on a dark Belfast street
His wrong place and wrong time intersected
As the black cab slipped by, he knew he would die
For one moment of caution neglected
As the guns took his life, their orange tongues framed in white
He wondered who was to blame
So swiftly he died, that night hardened men cried
And ‘follow the flag’ was no game


Which flag did he fall for, was it green, white and gold
Or was it the red, white and blue
The harp or the lily, King James or King Billy
That’s the riddle I’m leaving with you

They buried him proudly, the flag o’er his grave
From his leaders a stirring oration
Oh he died for his country, that’s what they all said
Rearranging six feet of his nation
And the flag neatly folded to his mother it went
In an ending that’s always the same
Young warriors are sleeping, old mothers are weeping
When ‘follow the flag’ is the game

But which flag did she weep o’er, was it green, white and gold
Or was it the red, white and blue
The harp or the lily, King James or King Billy
That’s the riddle I’m leaving with you

Wrap the green flag round me boys
To die is far more sweet
When we fought for the glorious King William
On the green mossy slopes of the Boyne

--Stewie.