Luyện nghe bài hát The Old Orange Flute

The Old Flute
In the Tyrone, in the town of Dungannon
Where many a ruckus meself had a in
Bob lived there, a weaver by trade
And all of us him a stout-hearted blade.
On the of July as it yearly did come
Bob played on the flute to the of the drum
You can talk of fiddles, your harp or your lute
But there's nothing sound like the Old Orange Flute.
But the scoundrel, he took us all in
For he married a named Bridget McGinn
Turned Papish himself and forsook the Old
gave us our freedom, religion and laws.
And the boys in the made such a stir on it
They forced Bob to flee to the province of
Took him his wife and his fixins, to boot,
And along with the went the Old Orange Flute.
Sunday at mass, to atone for past deeds,
Bob said Paters and and counted his beads
Till one Sunday morn, at the priest's own
Bob went for to play the flutes in the choir.
He went for to play the flutes in the mass
But the quivered and cried."O Alas!"
And blow as he would, though he made a noise,
The flute would play "The Protestant Boys".
Bob up and huffed, and was all in a flutter.
He pitched the old flute in the best water;
He thought that this charm would bring other sound,
he tried it again, it played "Croppies Lie Down!"
And for all he would finger and twiddle and
For to play Papish music, the would not go;
"Kick the Pope" to "Boyne Water" was all it sound
Not one bleat in it could e'er be found.
At a council of priests was held the next day
They decided to banish the Old away;
They knock heresy out of its head
So they Bob another to play in its stead.
And the Old Flute was doomed, and its fate was
'Twas fastened and at the stake as heretic.
As the flames rose around it, you could hear a noise
'Twas the Old Flute still "The Protestant Boys".
Note: the tune Protestant is also known as Lilliburlero RG
Recorded by Galvin, Clancys
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