01x01 - The Cause

[bunniefuu]

[narrator] The thing

about Irish people,

we've been arguing over

the same shite for 800 years.

See, it used to be that this was

our island till the British took it off us.

The Irish tried

to fight them out,

but we couldn't

quite finish the job.

So instead, the British kept

the top part for themselves.

And the IRA's been

fighting a bloody battle

to reunite the

country ever since.

Some die by b*mb, some by

b*llet. Others simply disappear.

[object bouncing, creaking]

[alarm blaring in distance]

[music playing over radio]

[child 1] Ma, when

is dinner ready?

[parent] I told you

to eat a big lunch.

[child 2] Ma, where

do you keep the pliers?

- [child 1] Ma, Billy won't put on--

- One at a time, please.

Where are the pliers?

Archie, you cannot

fix the cooker yourself.

Mickey, what's that

under your jumper?

What? Nothing.

Come. Let me see it, please.

Come on.

- [cooing]

- [parent] Ugh.

Michael, we had an agreement.

- This one's different.

- Six birds in the loft. No more.

He's really friendly, Ma.

Aye, he's quite handsome.

But if you wanna be keeping him,

you can release some of the others.

I'll not have more wild creatures

leaving their business on my floor.

- [Michael sighs]

- [parent] Helen.

[sighs] You're not

going out tonight.

What?

Pop to the chippie, get a

bite to eat for the wee ones.

And don't be stopping

for a sneaky smoke.

[announcer over radio] passed

the ball just to the left-hand side.

- But it's number 42, Birmingham.

- [knocks on door]

Right, Helen's back.

Start laying the table.

[radio chatter continues]

Where's your mammy, love?

- [thud]

- [young child, muffled] Ma!

[children clamoring]

[intruder 1] Where is she?

- Archie?

- [footsteps approaching]

[breathing heavily]

No. You stay back! Stay back!

[screams]

- [muffled screaming continues]

- [thudding]

[breathing shakily]

[cries softly]

- Put your coat on, love. We're leaving.

- [children crying]

- Tell them to keep quiet!

- Let me go!

Don't you touch them!

Don't you touch them.

Where are you taking her?

- Michael.

- Where are you taking her?

Michael! Be quiet.

- Michael, it's all right, son.

- [intruder 2] All of youse, calm down.

- It's all right, son.

- We just need to talk to her, is all.

Take me with you.

Archie.

It's okay, Ma.

You say you just wanna talk.

What's the harm in letting me come?

He comes. The rest stay.

Shh.

Can I sit next to her, please?

f*ck off, or be shot.

Ma?

Watch the children

till I get back. Okay?

Hello and welcome.

This is the Belfast

Project, An Oral History.

I'm here with Participant H.

And this is all anonymous, yeah?

Aye. No names. It's

for both our safety.

Look, don't be nervous.

The stuff I'll be asking you

about is all ancient history.

Not to them.

That's why we've

taken precautions.

This tape, no one's gonna

hear it until you're dead and gone.

You can say anything, Dolours.

The whole sordid story, then?

If you like.

Why don't you start by telling us

a little bit about your childhood?

[Older Dolours] Well, the

first thing you should know

is that my mother and father

were both proud members

of the Irish Republican Army.

Have I told you girls

how to make expl*sives?

[Older Dolours] Which meant

that while other kids got stories

about fairies and pixies,

we got the story of Da's

famous prison escape.

It was the night

before the escape.

The screws caught wind that

there was something going on.

They throw open my cell door

and they start hammering

me with the batons.

And the whole time they're

asking me all kinds of questions.

What did you tell them, Da?

Nothing. I said nothing, girls.

I picked a spot on the

wall, and I stared at it.

And no matter how they beat me,

I just kept staring

at that spot.

Sooner or later

they had no choice

but to let me go.

[Older Dolours] It was

quite a happy childhood.

Until I turned 16 and decided

that my whole family was mental.

Ma, we're going out.

It's not another sit-in, is it?

No, actually.

That's what's wrong

with this lot, love.

You and me, we bled on the

b*ttlefield. This generation, they sit.

Who's sitting? No one's sitting.

One time we went to a

sit-in, Da. For f*ck's sake.

Hey. Easy there, you.

[father] That's hormones.

She's hormonal.

We're not going to a sit-in.

We're going up the mountain.

You hiked up there yesterday

and you came back filthy.

Well, like Da said, I'm

hormonal. And I'm going again.

- [father chuckling]

- There now, you see what you've started?

Eh.

[imitating] Eh.

[Older Dolours] We were

Catholic in West Belfast,

which meant we lived

on the shite side of town.

It was a segregated society.

Everything was rigged.

Jobs, housing, voting rights.

It all went to the Protestants.

Civil rights march. Fair

housing for Catholics.

Voting rights for Catholics. Join

the march to Derry, Mr. McShane.

Good luck, girls.

If you were Catholic,

you had two choices.

You could live as second-class,

or you could get the hell out.

Sure, it's not so shite

from up here, is it?

What am I gonna do

when you're at uni? [sighs]

Daddy's gonna melt

my frigging head.

Come with me.

I'm serious though, Mar.

You don't wanna get stuck

here working in a factory,

eating out of a

f*cking lunch box.

Just one thing though.

I don't have talent.

- Hey.

- I don't.

You're gonna be

off doing art shows,

and I'm only good

at rolling cigarettes.

And I don't even smoke.

Look, everybody

has their thing, Mar.

Sometimes it just takes a

wee minute to find it, okay?

[sighs]

[Older Dolours] There was

never any argument in my family

about who had given

most for the cause.

You know, my father had

spent eight years in prison.

My mother had

only done two weeks.

But my Aunt Bridie, she had

given her eyes and her hands.

We're going on a peace

march. Leaving Wednesday.

All right. You'll have

protection, yeah?

Loads of Protestant villages

between here and Derry, love.

We'll be fine, Ma. They said at

most it'll be a few stones thrown.

They wanna waste four days

wading through muddy peat bogs.

Now, that protest at the

quay, that was a proper protest.

We pushed a police jeep

in the river and we ran.

Lot of good that did us.

Excuse me, what was that?

I'm just saying.

Look, in a civilized society, what

does violence get you? Right?

[stammers] You charge the

police, they-they attack with batons,

and everybody goes home

with bruises and nothing changes.

And you think that

nonviolence will do better?

Explain this to me, 'cause

I'm a wee bit confused.

[Dolours] Mmm.

You think you can take a dander

through 70 miles of sheep shite,

and the Prods will just

hand over the cushy jobs?

Since when has going on a

walk ever changed anything?

Um. Gandhi with the Salt

March, King in Alabama.

Well, you cannot solve our

problems with nonviolence

Were they not both assassinated?

any more than you can solve them

from some fancy Dublin university.

No matter how

well you can paint.

The armed struggle.

That's the way.

Is there more stuffing, Mammy?

Yeah. Well, you tried that,

Daddy. And you lost, remember?

Tried bombing the Brits, and

what have you got to show for it?

Has he ever told you, by the

way, the way his wee story ends?

When they all tunneled out

of prison, what happened?

They all got thrown

right the f*ck back in.

That's the armed struggle. He's

like f*cking Sisyphus, that one.

[mother] Dolours, shut it.

[marchers] Oh, deep

in my heart, I do believe ♪

- This is our country.

- Go back!

We shall overcome someday ♪

Catholic scum! Youse are

breeding like vermin, youse are!

Tell the Pope to

give you the pill!

Wee lads like you are

all the birth control I need.

Piss off!

[singing continues]

Oh, deep in my heart ♪

[Older Dolours] I mean, it wasn't enough

that the Prods had all the good jobs,

they also had the police.

And all we had were the

cemeteries and each other.

Do you think we

can trust the peelers?

They probably went to Sunday

school with those people.

[brakes squealing]

Attention. Police have said we may

encounter more resistance up ahead.

They've asked if we'd like to

pack it in. Should we oblige them?

[marchers] No!

We said at the outset that

we would march nonviolently.

Will we agree that not one

single person will retaliate,

- even to save himself from injury?

- [marchers] Yes!

Yes.

Come on. It'll just

be a few stones.

Aye, that's what

Saint Stephen said.

[laughs]

[interviewer] Which route did

you take that day on the march?

[Older Dolours] We

took the Glenshane Pass.

And whose idea was that then?

That would have been the police.

[marchers] We shall overcome ♪

Someday ♪

Oh, deep in my heart ♪

I do believe ♪

We shall overcome someday ♪

[marchers muttering]

[person shouts indistinctly]

Come on then!

- [marcher 1] My God!

- [marchers clamor]

[marchers] Don't!

[marcher 2] Oh,

my God! Get down!

- [mob shouting]

- [marcher 3] They're throwing stones!

[stones landing]

[shouting continues]

Mar.

Dolours, get your coat up!

[panting]

- [stone lands]

- [marcher 4 screams]

[breathes heavily]

- [mob shouting]

- [marchers screaming]

This way! This way! This way!

[clamoring continues]

Come on, Mar.

Okay. Okay.

River! We can get

across the river.

- Where you going to go now?

- Where are you going now, huh?

[mob chattering]

Go on.

No, please. Please,

please. Don't--

- [mob chattering, laughing]

- No!

- Please!

- [baton thuds]

Please!

Hey! Enough of that!

Go on! Go on! Get out of it!

[panting]

The thing was, I looked into the eyes

of the people who was beating us

and they were

glazed over with

hate.

And I thought to myself

You know, I thought, "No.

I'm never gonna

convert these people."

They had cudgels with

bloody nails in them.

[lighter clicks]

I don't know.

Girls. Why did

you not fight back?

Mar, I'm concentrating.

They're rioting in the Falls.

[reporter] Trouble

in Belfast tonight

as riots have erupted all

across Northern Ireland

with Catholic mobs

targeting local police stations.

Anyone seen with bricks and

bottles will be arrested on sight.

- [father] Chrissie!

- [door slams]

Jimmy, sit down over there.

- [whimpering]

- [father panting]

Go on, son, sit down. The

Cumann girls will sort you out.

Let me get you a towel, Jimmy,

love. You're leaking on the upholstery.

I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Price.

[Chrissie] No, no, you're

all right. You're all right, love.

- [Jimmy breathing shakily]

- There we go. You're all right.

Girls, don't just stand there.

Marian, get me ice.

And, Dolours, will you

grab me bandages, love?

[Dolours stammers]

I'm helping Marian.

- We need to get the f*ck out of here.

- Why?

I heard everyone's going

down to the police barracks.

I'm not up for another

ambulance ride tonight.

We're not gonna do anything.

We're just gonna watch.

What? We are. I promise.

Ma's not gonna like

that either. Wasting milk.

Mar, you can't stay

with the Cumann girls.

You're gonna be in there

breastfeeding the men all night.

Come on. We'll have a look.

At least it won't be

boring. [chuckles]

[Older Dolours] My

mother was in the Cumann.

That's the women's branch

of the Irish Republican Army.

My mommy knew everything about those

g*ns, except what it felt like to fire one.

Oh, that was

strictly for the men.

[clamoring in distance]

[passerby] This way. This way.

- [glass shatters]

- [people shouting]

Yeah! f*cking RUC

b*stards. Let's f*cking go.

Give it everything you f*cking

got! These f*cking c**ts!

- [glass shattering]

- [clamoring continues]

[protester] Hey, get that mattress

up on the barricade. Let's build it up.

Bottles. Bricks. Curbstones.

Whatever you can carry.

Bring it all to the barricade.

Here.

It's a wee bit more

festive than I thought.

[Dolours chuckles]

We need bottles and bricks

and curbstones in those crates.

Petrol bombs up to the roof.

- Who put that gawky f*ck in charge?

- Don't know.

He just picked up the

loud-hailer and he started talking.

Petrol bombs are doing f*ck all.

Listen, we need bigger jars. Like

the ones they sell at the sweet shop.

Bigger jars means more flames.

With enough fire, we can suck up all

the oxygen going to the car's engine.

We stall them out.

Then we can break in.

Get our own f*cking armored car.

Wee Gerry's come a

long way since debate club.

For the record. The

Gerry in question?

That would be Gerry Adams.

Gerry joined the IRA at 16.

He grew up with

Republican parents, like I did.

Only when it came to the

cause, he never wavered.

Go on, hit the sweet shops.

Get as many as you can carry.

I could have told you that.

- Chalkie.

- Huh?

What are you doing, mate?

I'm getting us a battering ram.

Chalkie, instead of cutting the

phones to a bunch of Catholic flats,

do you not think you should be

cutting down that telephone pole?

The one attached to the barracks

so they can't call for backup?

Aye, she is right,

ya thick f*ck.

Ah, f*ck off, you.

Who's the redhead?

She's Albert's daughter.

She's a laugh, she is.

- Evening, child.

- Don't call me child,

you jumped-up, wee prick.

You're a year older than I am.

Right. Well

[clears throat]

I just wanted to say,

you know, for a pacifist, you seem

to have a good mind for strategy.

Who said I was a pacifist?

I saw your da at

the Felon's Club.

He said youse were on the

front lines at the peace march.

Lotta good that did us.

We marched, we

sang. It did f*ck all.

You know [stammers] some

of the lads were talking strategy.

Doc wanted to

extend an invitation.

Him? He's older than my da.

Aye, but we-we've got a

lot of new blood coming in.

Look, you wanna do something

about our wee apartheid statelet?

The blokes upstairs

are a good place to start.

You gonna take down

the police barracks?

No, we're gonna take

down the government.

They were trying to recruit you?

Aye. You know, I've

been talent scouted?

Like one of those women

who walks down the street,

and some fella from a modeling

agency comes up and goes,

"Hey. I'm sending you to Milan."

- [chuckles]

- Except the only talent I was scouted for,

was rolling bandages

and making f*cking tea.

Women's work?

Ah, Gerry tried to spin it.

[Gerry] Everyone needs to

contribute in the special way they can.

This is your chance to be in the room

with the men reshaping this country.

The room next door, you mean?

Listening through the f*cking wall.

- That's Dolours--

- No, I'm sorry, Gerry.

The housewives have spoken.

[Older Dolours] You know, if

I wanted to join the Cumann,

I could have asked my mother.

We wanted to be doing

what the boys were doing.

What were the boys doing?

Fundraising.

- [g*nsh*t]

- All of youse on the f*cking ground!

All of youse on the

f*cking ground now!

Face down, all right?

All right, listen up! We are liberating

funds on behalf of the Provisional IRA.

The army does not

want to hurt no one.

Remember! Our problem

is not with any of you.

It's with her.

You, dickhead. Open

that f*cking register now.

Quickly, you specky b*stard.

Gorgeous, get

that till open now.

Jesus Christ, sweetheart. You've got

the bluest eyes I think I've ever seen.

You are f*cking

stunning-looking.

Thank you very much.

["Go!" playing]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

Yeah, yeah, yeah,

yeah Yeah, yeah ♪

Sin, sin, it's in the

bin. Let's f*cking go!

- [robbers shouting]

- [Chrissie] Are you okay?

[tires squealing in distance]

So, um

I think we'll go to the

grocer next, yeah?

Bluebells are in season.

Aye, Ma.

Let's get bluebells, definitely.

That was Brendan f*cking Hughes.

Brendan Hughes. Oh.

Aka The Dark.

He ran D Company back then.

They were the bad b*stards.

Well, he definitely

recognized you.

I've seen him around the pub.

He must have remembered me.

Ach. You think

everyone remembers you.

That-That was mad,

right? Wasn't it? I mean

I mean just in and out.

I thought robbing a

bank could be harder.

No, I think it's probably easy.

[soft knocks on door]

Uh. Can one of you give me a

hand with this potting soil, yeah?

You should tell your friend

Brendan to pick better disguises.

Women's tights aren't the most

foolproof means of camouflage.

Especially if one

has a mustache.

He's not

We're not friends, Mommy.

I've just seen him around is all.

Oh.

Would it be a

problem if we were?

What? God, no.

Brendan is a credit

to the cause, he is.

Yet, clearly you don't want me

knocking around with him, so--

I didn't say that. So please

stop putting words in my mouth.

Maybe if you'd said what you meant

every once in a while I wouldn't have to.

Look, watch your mouth.

And that's not fair. Look, I don't

want to argue with you, okay?

I just meant that things

are obviously heating up.

Your da thinks the Brits will

be sending in the army soon.

And they will come

down hard on the IRA.

And your man Brendan's

right out there on the front lines.

I just don't want you to forget the

opportunity you've got at university

because, let me

tell you something,

an education like that

was not an option for me.

- The bloody Unionists wouldn't let me.

- Are you f*cking serious, Mommy?

Dolours.

No, no, no, no.

For 18 years, Da's

been yarning on like,

"The-The peelers are crooked, Dolours.

We have to dismantle the state, Dolours."

And you just sat there

nodding your f*cking head.

Dolours. Shush.

[door opens]

Look.

I just prefer that if my

daughter does go to university,

she has all four

limbs intact. That's all.

You don't have to

worry about me, Ma.

I have my priorities sorted.

[Bridie] Are those

soldiers still about?

[Dolours] Soldiers?

There are no

soldiers, Auntie Bridie.

I heard them last night.

Rummaging through the bins.

Go tell your da up at the

Felon's. He needs to know.

Okay.

[rattling in the distance]

[rattling]

[rattling continues]

[Marian] What's up?

[rattling]

- Soldiers. At the neighbor's house.

- [soldiers shouting, chattering]

[soldier speaks indistinctly]

What's going on?

They're searching houses.

[clattering continues]

[soldier 1 shouts]

Open up!

Mommy.

British Army! Albert Price!

Wait. No, no. No, no. This is my

house. Get the f*ck out-- [grunts]

- Mommy! Mommy! Ma. Ma.

- [soldiers shouting]

- Mom.

- I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay.

[soldier 2] Number

10 [shouts indistinctly]

Come to the front door

with nothing in your hands!

[soldier 3] Upstairs.

Check the upstairs.

[whispering] No, no.

Clothes are gone. Must

have done a runner.

Just find the g*ns.

Where's your daddy gone? Hey?

Where's he hiding the g*ns?

You tell me where the f*ck

he is right now! I swear to God,

I will pull your sister in here and make

a f*cking example of her in front of you!

[volume fades] I swear

to God! Tell me now!

[silence]

[Older Dolours]

Even if we had talked,

those men wouldn't have

liked what they heard.

Da fled south over the border

where British law meant nothing.

Others weren't so lucky.

They took old fellas, young fellas,

cripples, drunks. It didn't matter.

Anyone deemed a

threat to the peace,

they were swept up

off the street like that.

[soldiers shouting]

Neat and tidy.

You know, the house got

a lot quieter after he left.

I was surprised how

much I miss my father.

Come on, I'm gonna

be late for school.

You're not going

to f*cking school.

[people shouting]

[Dolours whispers]

Let me do the talking.

Our da's on the run. We just

came back from being questioned.

I had that on me the whole time.

The soldiers didn't

even think to look.

[stammers] If you think that

we're just useful serving tea,

then you might be missing

your chance to win this w*r.

Does their mammy

know they're here?

Nah. They want

her kept out of it.

[in Irish] Thank you.

Let me see if I understand.

You wanna rewrite the

whole operations manual

just because you've

got a famous daddy?

No. Rewrite it because

it was written in '56.

The fight has radically changed.

Aye, but the--

No, no. Listen, respectfully, youse

goaded the Brits into a w*r, yeah?

And now you're

outmanned 50-to-1.

There's an army of

women in Belfast and Derry

willing to tilt the

odds in your favor.

Any of whom can help

by joining the Cumann.

But you're not listening.

We don't wanna

be rolling bandages.

How about you, Marian? Huh?

Your ma has been with the

Woman's Council 20 years.

You'd honor her

legacy by joining.

- She wants to fight.

- Let her tell us herself.

I guess ever since that march,

I kinda have been thinking maybe the

Women's Council would be good fit, like.

But now internment's on.

And what happens if

tomorrow, all you guys are gone?

Either we sit at home

fiddling with our bandages,

or you can teach us to fight.

Which one of those do you

think's gonna help us win the w*r?

These two are not for budging.

Better take it up

to the Big Lad.

Sorry, the Big Lad?

Aye, you heard that name a lot.

You know, anyone you

ever talked to, it was always,

"Go and see the Big Lad."

I-I got a sit-down with

the man eventually.

So you're just seriously

not gonna tell me who it is?

All right. Okay. I'll give

you a clue. You know him.

- Right.

- His birthday's in January.

[scoffs]

No, I'm only f*cking you about. I

don't know when his birthday is.

Don't tell him I said that.

You're gonna go in here, you're

gonna sit down, you're gonna wait.

He's very particular.

He doesn't like

being seen in public.

He's, uh

He's very intimidated

by good-looking women.

Don't tell him I said

that either. [chuckles]

[chuckles]

I know how to

handle men like that.

All right.

Hey, good luck. This

is where I leave you.

- [chuckles]

- Evening, child.

It's quite a cagey piece of

spycraft you've got there, Gerry.

Brits will never see

past the turtleneck.

Well, I don't have

advantages like some do.

Nice red hair and a

mini skirt, for instance.

Can I take that to mean

you approve of my request?

Aye. Of course, we need women.

They're interning

all the bloody men.

That's exactly what

I've been saying.

The rest of the fellas,

I feel like I'm gonna have to

f*cking tie them to their chairs,

put hoods on their heads and read

aloud from the f*cking Feminine Mystique.

Luckily, the Chief of Staff's

quite practical about this.

His opinion's all that counts.

[stammers]

That's marvelous then.

You know, they very nearly

let a dog into the army.

It's actually not a bad story.

There was this wee

fellow, Herbo Gibson, right?

What?

It's just, we were talking

about women, Gerry.

Aye. We were. Now I'm

telling you about a dog.

So, this dog, Bo was his name.

And during the riots, you know,

when the lads were throwing stones,

Bo had orders to fetch each

stone, bring it back to the thrower.

And he was quite

a good soldier, Bo.

He always followed orders.

His career was cut short though

when one of the lads threw a nail b*mb.

Bo picks it up, brings

it back to his owner.

And now the

rioters all-- all panic.

They're all losing their heads,

jumping behind the

hedges and what have you,

till they hear

the jelly go bang.

When they found Bo's body,

they gave the wee

man a military funeral.

Jesus, Gerry.

Your stories are awful

f*cking dreary, mate.

Dolours, all I'm saying

[sighs]

is that being a soldier

is not like your daddy says.

You're more like that dog, Bo.

You follow orders,

you don't ask questions.

And there's a good chance that someone

you love will find your body in the street.

So,

the question, child,

isn't if they'll let you fight.

The question is, are

you sure you want to?

["Go Dig My Grave" playing]

Go dig my grave ♪

[IRA member] Raise your

right hand and repeat after me,

"I, Dolours Price

[IRA member] promise I will promote

the objectives of the Irish Republican Army

to the best of my

knowledge and ability.

promise that I will

promote the objectives

of the Irish Republican Army

to the best of my

knowledge and ability

and that I will

obey all orders

[Dolours] and that

I will obey all orders

[IRA member] issued to me by the

army authority and my superior officers."

- issued to me

- [Older Dolours] issued to me

- by the army authority

- by the army authority

- and my superior officers."

- and my superior officers."

That I died for love ♪

[IRA member] Right then.

You're not to tell

anyone you're IRA.

Not friends,

boyfriends, schoolmates.

Loose talk cost lives.

Understood?

Oh, Lord ♪

Oh, Lordy me ♪

[song fades out]

Have you ever said any of

this on the record before?

No, not explicitly.

- You want to talk about the robberies?

- Aye, I'll talk about the robberies.

The London job?

I'll talk about the

London job, aye.

How about that thing that

happened in Divis Flats?

What thing that

happened in Divis Flats?

A woman was taken.

She never came home.

She was a widow.

A mother of ten.

Her name was Jean McConville.

Want to say anything about that?

You know, one thing I

can say that all my life,

I thought joining the IRA was the

noblest thing a person could do.

["Go Dig My Grave" fades back in]

♪ She went upstairs ♪

It could be worse, I guess.

How?

Y-You were taught that you were

fighting in the name of the people.

♪ Her mother ♪

Not too shabby, eh?

♪ she went upstairs too ♪

[Older Dolours] That the whole

community was behind you.

You know that every

drop of blood that was shed

was the cost of an unjust w*r.

You're just moving in?

♪ I cannot tell ♪

You're welcome to

drop by sometime.

♪ That railroad boy ♪

We're the ones in the red door.

♪ That I loved so well ♪

[Older Dolours] That the men

fighting beside you were your brothers,

and that everything

you do together

is for the greater good of

a free and united Ireland.

Welcome to Divis, lad.

♪ He will not stay ♪

♪ Oh, Lordy, Lord Oh, Lordy me ♪

And I think people

should know

♪ Oh, Lord, oh, Lord ♪

that it's all lies.

♪ Oh, Lordy me ♪