Here are the lyrics in response to a request in another thread. They are what Mike sent me with part of a line amended by me. Reminds me of 'The Old Orange Flute', just worse.

Wolfgang


THE FENIAN RECORD PLAYER
(Tune: Yellow rose of Texas)

Wee Willie John McFudgeon was a loyal Orange Prod
Who thought that Ian Paisley was one step down to God.
He thought they ate the children in the backwoods of Ardoyne,
And he thought that history started with the The Battle of the Boyne.

One day he took a brick in his hand and went down the road to Falls.
He was mumblin' 'Up the Rangers' and hummin' 'Derry's Walls'.
He broke the bakeshop window to annoy the Pope of Rome.
He took a record player out and then he started home.

Next night they had a hooley in his local Orange Hall.
Wee Willie brought his player along to make music for the ball.
He choose a stack of records of a very loyal kind,
But when the music started up, Wee Willie lost his mind.

This Fenian record player was a rebel to the core.
It played the songs an Orange Lodge has never heard before.
For 'Dolly's Brae' and 'Derry's Walls' it didn't give a fig,
And it speeded up 'God Save the Queen' 'til it sounded like a jig.

It played 'The Woods of Upton' and 'The Wearing of the Green',
Such turmoil in an Orange Hall has never yet been seen.
It played 'The Boys of Wexford' and 'The Men of Ninety-Eight',
But when it played 'A Soldier's Song' it sealed poor Willie's fate.

The boys were plain demented. To the ground he well was thrown.
They kicked his ribs in one by one to the tune of 'Garryowen'.
They threw him out the window to a song about Sinn Féin,
And they kicked him all 'round Sandy Row to 'A Nation Once Again'.

That Fenian record player was heard no nevermore.
They prodded it with piggin' poles and threw it on the floor;
But still the funniest sight, me boys, that I have ever seen:
The flashes flyin' out of it were Orange, White and Green.

Wee Willie's up in the mental home, crazy as a coot.
He sits there in his padded cell and tootles with his flute.
When he tries to play a song, he just lets out a groan,
For halfway through the 'August Fights' he's playin' 'A Soldier's Song'.

There's a moral to this story. What it is I cannot say.
Maybe it's the ancient verse that 'crime will never pay'.
If you ask Wee Willie McFudgeon, he'll tell you: 'Crime be blowed!
If you want to pinch a record player, do it up the Shankill Road.'