The Golden Treasury of Irish Songs & Lyrics

Volume Two - Complete Text & Lyrics

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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 411
At the Chapel on Sundays to atone for past deeds, He said Pater and Ave and counted his beads, Till after some time at the Priests' own desire, He went with his ould flute to play in the choir, He went with his ould flute to play in the Mass, And the instrument shivered and sighed, oh, alas ! When he blew it and fingered and made a great noise, The flute would play only " The Protestant Boys."
Bob jumped and he started and got into a splutter, And threw his ould flute in the blessed holy water; He thought that this charm would bring some other
sound, But when he blew it again it played " Croppies lie
down." And all he could whistle, and finger, and blow, To play Papish music he found it no go, "Kick the Pope," and "The Boyne Water," and
such like it would sound, But one Papish squeak in it couldn't be found.
At a council of priests that was held the next day,
They decided to banish the ould flute away,
For they couldn't knock heresy out of its head,
So they bought Bob another to play in its stead.
So the ould flute was doomed and its fate was pathetic,
It was fastened and burned at the stake as heretic;
While the flames roared around it they heard a strange
noise, 'Twas the ould flute still whistling " The Protestant
Boys."