.Now brave boys we'll run for march, not to Portugal or Spain,
The drums are beatin', banners flyin', the devil at home we'll find tonight.
Chorus:
Love, fare thee well,
With me ti-ther-ee-i doo-dle-um-a-day,
With me ti-ther-ee-i doo-dle-um-a-day,
Me right-fol toor-a-lad-.
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