Name: The Orange and The Green
Channel: words and music traditional
Description: Free MP3 download! Licensing options are available for this track. Another song Andrew learned from his much-beloved Irish Rovers.

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Another song Andrew learned from his much-beloved Irish Rovers.

mandolin autoharp recorde

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Brobdingnagian Bards

The Original Celtic Renaissance duo from Austin, TX! Called Masters of Traditional Folk by The Austin Chronicle, Marc Gunn and Andrew McKee join the autoharp, r

We are the Brobdingnagian Bards (pronounced brAHb'ding-näg-EE-en). We perform a unique style of Celtic folk music that we like to call "a Renaissance in Celtic music" or "The Original Celtic Renaissance. Ask our fans though, and they'll tell you our music is just plain "fun!" With six studio albums completed in just five years, combined with ten other compilations, singles and EPs, we've been called one of the most-productive Celtic groups around. But we just love playing the music.

Song Info

Genre

World • Traditional Irish

Charts

Peak #16

Peak in subgenre #1

Author

words and music traditional

Rights

Gunn-McKee

Uploaded

January 26, 2006

Track Files

MP3

MP3 2.3 MB • 192 kbps • 2:28

Story behind the song

Another song Andrew learned from his much-beloved Irish Rovers. The song uses the same melody as Rising of the Moon. It's one of the few songs that actually pokes fun of the religious diffences of Ireland. I remember growing up and my dad told me that the Scottish wear orange on St. Patrick's Day. I didn't realize why until a couple years ago. One of the reasons for the division of Ireland into North and South Ireland is because the North is predominately Protestant (represented by the color Orange) and the South is predominately Catholic (represented by the color green). While they war about religion, at least some understand how ridiculous it is.

Lyrics

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.