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One Tuesday night on a Belfast quay
side,
Two riflemen stood, my comrade and I,
We'd grown up together but soon would be parted,
Then all of a sudden another man cried,
Goodbye mother, fare thee well to Belfast.
I wont see you till my time here is done,
For many a year I must walk amongst strangers,
And God only knows if I'll ever return.
Now one year has passed and the soldier
lies dying,
While out on the field he lays breathing his last,
His comrades in battle around him did gather,
And slowly he tells them the tales of his past.
O' tell them I died for my King and
my Country,
O' tell them I died 'neath the Red, White and Blue,
O' tell them I died for the honour of Ulster,
What more can this brave Ulster Rifleman do.
O' tell them he died for his King and
his Country,
And ask them what more must these Ulstermen do.
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