Oh, the empire it has finished,
now foreign lands to seize,
And the greedy eye of England
Two hundred miles from Donegal.
There's a place called Wroggall,
And the groping hounds of Whitehall
Are grobbing at its walls.
Oh, Wroggall, Wroggall, you'll never fall
For Britain's greedy hands
Now you'll meet the same resistance
like you did in many lands
May the seagulls rise above your eyes
And the waters crush your shells
This rock is part of Ireland
All is written in folklore
When Finn McCool took a sod of grass
Then he tossed the pebble
For the sword became the isle of man
And the pebbles call Ragol,
O Ragol, Ragol, you'll never fall
For Britain's greedy hands
I'll meet the same resistance
Like you did in many lands
May the seagulls rise above your eyes
And the waters crush your shells
Overseas will not be silent,
while Britannia rules the waves
And remember that the Irish
will no longer be your slaves
And remember that Britannia will
She rules the waves no more,
so keep your hands on Morocco
or rock on, rock on, it'll never fall
For Britain's greedy hands,
they'll meet the same resistance
Like you did in many lands
May the seagulls rise above your eyes
And the waters crush your shells
And the natural gas will burn your ass
Oh, ruck on, ruck all, you'll never fall
For Britain's greedy hands
You'll meet the same resistance
Like you did in many lands
May the seagulls rise above your eyes
By the waters, crush your shells,
I'm the natural gas who'll
and blow you all to hell.
