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rowing songs
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THE BOAT MY FATHER ROWED
(With apologies to Orangemen Everywhere)

Sure I'm an Ulster Oarsman, from Erin's Isle I came,
To race my British brethren, all of Henley finals fame,
And to tell them of my forefathers who rowed in days of yore,
That I might have the right to race the boat my father rowed!

Chorus:
It is old, but it is beautiful and its colours they are brown
It was rowed at Derry, Portadown on the Lagan and the Boyne.
My father rowed it as a youth In bygone days of yore
And at the head I love to race the boat my father rowed.

For those brave men who raced at Champs, have not crabbed or died in pain
Our unity, good timing, rate, and balance they maintain,
If the call should come we'll follow the stroke, and row that course once more
That tomorrow's Ulsterman may race, in the boat my father rowed!

Chorus:
It is old, but it is beautiful and its colours they are brown
It was rowed at Derry, Portadown on the Lagan and the Boyne.
My father rowed it as a youth, In bygone days of yore
And at the head I love to race The boat my father rowed.

We'll race some day, across the sea, our catches never late
and row the Henley royal course, to the sound of blade and gate
And Ulster's clubs shall echo still, from the Bann to Tullamore
As we sing again the loyal strain of the boat my father rowed!

Chorus:
It is old, but it is beautiful and its colours they are brown
It was rowed at Derry, Portadown on the Lagan and the Boyne.
My father rowed it as a youth, In bygone days of yore
And at the head I love to race The boat my father rowed.

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