TROUBLED THOUGHT

When I hear the last Reveille I’ll be ready for the road,

And although I knew this journey is my last,

I’ll go forth with faith and courage, to find my last abode,

But I don’t believe I’ll travel by Belfast.

Tho’ it’s people never harmed me, their ways I don’t admire,

By some friendly, safer way I mean to go,

And if I should be flying, I’ll get up a good bit higher,

If I’m passing near the falls or Sandy Row.

If the ghosts of rebel Wexford, by chance should wander North,

No mortal man could count it any harm,

But they scarcely would have started, when the warning has gone forth,

And the loyal bugler sounded the alarm.

Then the ghost of gallant Walker, and his bold Apprentice Boys

Would rise up from their graves round Derry Walls,

And their shouts of “No Surrender”, would create an awful noise,

As they rushed to meet the “Rebels”, at the Falls.

Then some well fed man, from safety, would issue the commands,

And the foolish working men would turn out,

While the U.D.A. and I. R.A. with blood would stain their hands,

Not asking what the row was all about.

But the boys around the corner would set up the party yell,

And for tolerance and justice strike a blow,

While the devil grins, because he needs another space for Hell,

And he finds it in the Falls and Sandy Row.

I know I’ll soon be marching on the road to Kingdom Come,

And my politics could never send me wrong,

I’ll be happy if they greet me with the Orange Bambeg drum,

And keep smiling if they sing, “The soldiers song”,

I’ll be seeing lots of faces that I almost had forgot,

But hope to meet some good old wartime pals,

W’e l have happy recollections of the battles that we fought,

But never on the Shankhill or the Falls.