Oh, then Basil Brugha's me name
With me orange sash I came
For to beat me drum on the twelfth day of July
And the English queen and crown, I never let them down
"Up the border, keep the border" is me cry

Now beyond in USA, you'll no longer hear them say
'For president, no papish need apply'
But in Belfast there is no hope for a man they call the Pope
"Up the border, keep the border" is me cry

Though we're born in Ireland, you must try to understnad
That we all like to be English when we die
Even heaven would be dull if it hadn't got John Bull
"Up the border, keep the border" is me cry

"Oh then Basil, be a dear,"
Said the wife-to-be one year
"To paper up the kitchen you must try"
So I got some sticky glue and put red up, white and blue
"Up the border, keep the border" is me cry

Now I have some empty bags and I'll fill them up with fags
I'll buy them down in Dublin on the sly
And the customs men I'll hook
For me name is Basil Brugha
"Up the border, keep the border" is me cry
If Sinn Féin give me their spell
Sure, Belfast can go to spell
And the border will be blown up to the sky