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Be Kind to Belfast 
Be Kind to Belfast 
Red brick in the suburb, white horse on the wall, Italian marble in the grand city hall; O stanger from England, why stand ye aghast? May the Lord in his mercy be kind to Belfast. 
We swore by King William, there'd never be seen An all Ireland parliament at College Green And at Stormont we're nailing the flag to the mast. May the Lord in his mercy be kind to Belfast. 
This city that harbours our hopes and our fears Was knocked up from the swamp in the last hundred years; But the last shall be first and the first shall be last; May the Lord in his mercy be kind to Belfast 
The bricks they may bleed and the rain it may weep And the damp Lagan fog lulls the city to sleep. It's to Hell with the future, we'll live in the past May the Lord in his mercy be kind to Belfast 
As I remember it - which makes it a traditional song Air Old Orange Flute or Villikins and his Dinah or whatever you like (that's traditional too)
 The second and thrid verses may be transposed, the others only make sense where they are.
 To understand this song one needs to know a little about the topography of Belfast and about northern history - I'm not going to explain - except for one thing - Maurice James Craig was a protestant liberal. 
JM oct99