The Orange And The Green
Oh, it is the biggest mix-up
That you have ever seen.
My father, he was orange
And me mother, she was green.
My father was an ulster man, proud protestant was he.
My mother was a catholic girl, from county cork was she.
They were married in two churches, lived happily enough,
Until the day that i was born and things got rather tough.
Baptized by father riley, i was rushed away by car,
To be made a little orangeman, my father's shining star.
I was christened "david anthony," but still, inspite of that,
To me father, i was william, while my mother called me pat.
With mother every sunday, to mass i'd proudly stroll.
Then after that, the orange lodge would try to save my soul.
For both sides tried to claim me, but i was smart because
I'd play the flute or play the harp, depending where i was.
Now when i'd sing those rebel songs, much to me mother's joy,
Me father would jump up and say, "look here would you me boy.
That's quite enough of that lot", he'd then toss me a coin
And he'd have me sing the orange flute or the heros of the boyne
One day me ma's relations came round to visit me.
Just as my father's kinfolk were all sitting down to tea.
We tried to smooth things over, but they all began to fight.
And me, being strictly neutral, i bashed everyone in sight.
My parents never could agree about my type of school.
My learning was all done at home, that's why i'm such a fool.
They've both passed on, god rest 'em, but left me caught between
That awful color problem of the orange and the green.
O Laranja e o Verde
Oh, é a maior confusão
Que você já viu.
Meu pai era laranja
E minha mãe, ela era verde.
Meu pai era um homem do Ulster, orgulhoso protestante que era.
Minha mãe era uma garota católica, de County Cork, ela era.
Eles se casaram em duas igrejas, viveram felizes o suficiente,
Até o dia em que eu nasci e as coisas ficaram bem difíceis.
Batizado pelo padre Riley, fui levado de carro,
Para me tornar um pequeno laranjinha, a estrela brilhante do meu pai.
Fui batizado de "David Anthony", mas ainda assim, apesar disso,
Para meu pai, eu era William, enquanto minha mãe me chamava de Pat.
Com minha mãe, todo domingo, para a missa eu ia orgulhoso.
Depois disso, a loja laranja tentava salvar minha alma.
Pois os dois lados tentavam me reivindicar, mas eu era esperto porque
Eu tocava flauta ou tocava harpa, dependendo de onde eu estava.
Agora, quando eu cantava aquelas músicas rebeldes, para alegria da minha mãe,
Meu pai pulava e dizia: "Olha aqui, meu garoto.
Já chega dessa palhaçada", ele então me jogava uma moeda
E me fazia tocar a flauta laranja ou os heróis do Boyne.
Um dia, os parentes da minha mãe vieram me visitar.
Justo quando os parentes do meu pai estavam todos sentados para o chá.
Tentamos apaziguar as coisas, mas todos começaram a brigar.
E eu, sendo estritamente neutro, bati em todo mundo à vista.
Meus pais nunca conseguiram concordar sobre o tipo de escola que eu deveria ter.
Meu aprendizado foi todo feito em casa, por isso sou tão idiota.
Ambos já se foram, que Deus os tenha, mas me deixaram preso entre
Esse terrível problema de cores do laranja e do verde.