Celtic children born with stone in hand   Cast against the dark   Revolution spark   Bitter tears they flood the sea   They're drowning me.      Frightened soldiers fighting for a queen   Streets of orange and green   Ancient building scream   As exploding motor cars   Leave their scars.      Hey, belfast cowboys,   What you gonna do, where're you gonna run.      Towards the dawn the lights of power burn   Statesmen wrapped in fears   Wrestling with ideas   Search their souls to find the key.   Who has the key?       Hey, belfast cowboys,   What you gonna do, where're you gonna run.      Khaki angles fly the sun,   Mortar starlight burns   Tear stained face it turns   Paid the blood price to be free.      Hey, belfast cowboys,   What you gonna do, where're you gonna run.