GERRY WHERE'S YOUR TROOSERS .

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Well, I’ve just come down
From West Belfast
I’m very big and I’m no very shy
And the lassies shout when I go by
Gerry, where’s your troosers


Let Sinn Fein blow high
Let Sinn Fein blow low
Through the streets
In my scarf, I’ll go
All the journos say hello
singing
Gerry, where’s your troosers


A lassie took me to a feile
And I sang the song I sang in jail
Right up there on the Richter scale
For I had nae on my troosers


Let Sinn Fein blow high
Let Sinn Fein blow low
Through the streets
In my scarf, I’ll go
All the journos say VAT
singing
Gerry, where’s your troosers


Now I went down to old Louth Town
I was there but I couldn’t be found
But back in Northstead being crowned
And measured for my trousers


Let Sinn Fein blow high
Let Sinn Fein blow low
Through the streets
In my robes, I’ll go
All the journos say cheerio
singing
Gerry, old bean, where’s your trousers


To wear a crown is my delight
I know its wrong but it feels just right
West Belfast would get a fright
If they saw me in my ermine.


Let Sinn Fein blow high
Let Sinn Fein blow low
Through the streets
In my robes, I’ll go
All the voters say cheerio
singing
Pearse, please put on the trousers.