Our farce is now finsihed, your sport's at an end! ~ But ere you depart, let the voice of a friend, By way of a chorus, the evening crown ~ With a song to the tune of a hey derry down, ~ Derry down, down, hey derry down.

Old Shakespeare, a poet who should not be spit on, ~ Although he was born in an island called Britain, ~ Hath said the mankind are all players at best, ~ A truth we'll admit of, for the sake of the jest. ~ Derry down, down, hey derry down.

On this puny stage we've strutted our hour, ~ And have acted our parts to the best of our power; ~ That the farce hath concluded - not perfectly well, ~ Was surely the fault of the Devil in Hell! ~ Derry down, down, hey derry down.

This Devil you know, out of spleen to the Church, ~ Will oftentimes leave his best friends in the lurch, ~ And turn them adrift in the midst of their joy, ~ 'Tis a difficult matter to cheat the Old Boy, ~ Derry down, down, hey derry down.

Since this is the case, we must e'en make the best ~ Of a game that is lost: let us turn it to jest! ~ We'll smile, nay, we'll laugh, we'll carouse, and we'll sing, ~ And cheerfully drink life and health to the king, ~ Derry down, down, hey derry down.

Let Washington now from his mountains descend, ~ Who knows but in George he may still find a friend? ~ A Briton, although he loves bottle and wench, ~ Is an honester fellow than parlez-vous French, ~ Derry down, down, hey derry down.

Our great "Independence" we give to the wind, And pray that Great britain may once more be kind; ~ In this jovial song all hostility ends, ~ And Britons and we will forever be friends, ~ Derry down, down, hey derry down.

Boys, fill me a bumper! now join in the chorus! ~ There is happiness still in the prospect before us, ~ In this sparkling glass, all hostility ends, ~ And Britons and we will for ever be friends! ~ Derry down, down, hey derry down.