Ho brother Teague, dost hear de deeree?
Lilli burlero, bullen a la
Dat we shall have a new deputie,
Lilli burlero, bullen a la
cho: Lero, lero, lilli burlero,
Lilli burlero, bullen a la
Lero lero, lero lero,
Lilli burlero, bullen a la.
Ho, by my Soul, it is a Talbot;
And he will cut all de English throat,
Though by my soul, de English do prate,
De law's on dere side and de divil knows what,
But if Dispense do come from de Pope,
We'll hang Magna Carta and demselves on a rope.
And de good Talbot is now made a Lord,
And with his brave lads he's coming aboard.
Who all In France have taken a swear,
Dat day will have no Protestant heir.
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O but why does he stay behind?
Ho, by my soul, 'tis a Protestant wind,
Now that Tyrconnel is come ashore,
And we shall have Commissions galore.
And he dat will not go to de Mass,
Shall be turned out and look like an ass,
Now, now de hereticks all will go down,
By Christ and St. Patrick's the nation's our own.
Dere was an old prophecy found in a bog,
Dat our land would be ruled by an ass and a dog.
So now dis old prophecy's coming to pass,
For James is de dog and Tyrconnel's de ass.
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