Auld Orange Flute by The Dubliners Guitar Chords

[Intro]

D G D A

[Verse 1]
D A D
In the County Tyrone, near the town of Dungannon,
Bm A
Where many the ructions meself had a hand in.
D G D
Bob Williamson lived, a weaver by trade,
A D
And all of us thought him a stout Orange blade,
F#m G
On the Twelfth of July as it yearly did come,
D A7
Bob played with his flute to the sound of a drum.
D G D
You may talk of your harp, your piano or lute,
A D
But none can compare with the Old Orange Flute.

[Verse 2]
D A D
Bob, the deceiver, he took us all in;
Bm A
He married a Papist named Bridget McGinn.
D G D
Turned Papist himself and forsook the old cause
A D
That gave us our freedom, religion and laws.
F#m G
Now, boys of the townland made some noise upon it,
D A7
And Bob had to fly to the province of Connaught.
D G D
He fled with his wife and his fixings to boot,
A D
And along with the latter his Old Orange Flute.

[Verse 3]
D A D
At the chapel on Sunday to atone for past deeds,
Bm A
He’d say Pater and Aves and counted his brown beads.
D G D
‘Til after some time, at the priest’s own desire
A D
He went with that old flute to play in the choir.
F#m G
He went with that old flute for to play for the Mass,
D A7
But the instrument shivered and sighed, oh, alas,
D G D
And try though he would, though it made a great noise,
A D
The flute would play only “The Protestant Boys.”

[Verse 4]
D A D
Bob jumped and he stared and got in a flutter
Bm A
And threw the old flute in the blessed holy water.
D G D
He thought that this charm would bring some other Sound;
A D
When he tried it again, it played “Croppies Lie Down.”
F#m G
Now, for all he could whistle and finger and blow,
D A7
To play Papish music he found it no go.
D G D
“Kick the Pope” and “The Boyne Water” it freely would Sound,
A D
But one Papish squeak in it couldn’t be found.

[Verse 5]
D A D
At the council of priests that was held the next day
Bm A
They decided to banish the old flute away.
D G D
They couldn’t knock heresy out of it’s head,
A D
So they bought Bob a new one to play in it’s stead.
F#m G
Now, the old flute was doomed, and its fate was pathetic
D A7
‘Twas fastened and burned at the stake as a heretic.
D G D
As the flames soared around it, they heard a strange Noise;
A D
‘Twas the old flute still whistling “The Protestant Boys.”

[Outro]
G D
“Toora lu, toora lay,
A D
Oh, it’s six miles from Bangor to Donnahadee.”