What a court, hath old England, of folly and sin,
Spite of Chatham and Camden, Barré, Burke Wilkes, and Glynn!
Not content with the Game Act, they tax fish and sea,
And America drench with hot water and tea!
Derry down, down, down, derry down...
There's no knowing where this oppression will stop;
Some say there's no cure but a capital chop;
And that I believe's each American's wish,
Since you've drenched them with tea and deprived them of fish!
Derry, derry down, down, down, derry down...
Then freedom's the word, both at home and abroad,
And out every scabbard that hides a good sword!
Our forefathers gave us this freedom in hand,
And we'll die in defense of the rights of the land!
Derry down, down, down, derry down...
Derry down, down, down, derry down!