Maggie and FitzGerald met in '85.
She said Garret, I'll scratch your back if you will scratch mine,
But don't tell the Prods what we're going to do,
But you can tell the Provos and the Sinn Fein too.

Chorus:
I'm proud to be an Ulsterman.
I'm proud to he a Prod.
Proud to have my home in Ulster's loyal sod.
If any rebs from Eire want to take this land from me,
We'll kick the bloody rebels into the Irish sea.

They said we'll stop their marching on the Glorious Twelfth.
But you can have your Easter march and Ulster to yourself.
She didn't know the Ulsterman,
In him she met her match.
But he answered "no, no, no," to the dirty plot she hatched.

He's proud to be an Ulsterman.
He's proud to be a Prod.
Proud to have his home on dear old Ulster's sod.
Maggie and your cronies, we all hate your guts.
And you can stick your darned agreement where the monkey sticks his nuts.

Repeat Chorus: