Candle flickers by my bed
But it gives my brain relief
That root me from my sleep
The Queen lays plots in London
But she won't have my head
To the icy fields of Kinsale
Fire and lightning protect Tirconaill
Fire and brimstone rain down on London
They'll long remember Red Hugh O'Donnell
I could not join that battle
I gave orders from my horse
Wick low snows had withered
Oh, were I back in Ulster
I'd dive in Swilly's foam
He grows old and cautious
My blade would rip their stomachs
O'Neill longs for an armistice
With a queen who'll break her word
That bitch will taste my sword
I'll drag her red wig from her head
Pull out her poisoned tongue
I must get back to Ulster
I'm tormented by that whore
Who waits at court in London
Her agents hunt me everywhere
My head will not grace London's spike
I'll fight her to the end
Tonight I sup with James Blake
He's promised me three ships of war
We'll sweep Lizzie from her throne
With O'Neill as my adviser
But now the dawn is breaking
I will arise and say my prayers