Well, an old castle towers o'er the billows
That thunder by Antrim's green land
And there dwelt as gallant a rover
That ever grasped sword in his hand
While eight stately towers o'er the waters
Watch over the northern domain
And Sorley-boy and his raiders
Hold the north Antrim coast in their name

And it's up wi' bold Sorley McDonald
Sorley-boy McDonald the free
As straight as the masts of his galley
As strong as the waves on the sea

The septs and the clans of MacQuillen
They harried his lands with their powers
He gave them a taste of his cannon
Then drove them like sheep from his towers
Well, the men and MacQuillen sailed over
Their strong fleet to make him a slave
They met him off old Port na Spaniagh
And the sharks gnawed their bones 'neath the waves

And it's up wi' bold Sorley McDonald
Sorley-boy McDonald the free
As straight as the masts of his galley
As strong as the waves on the sea

Long time in that old battered castle
Or out on the waves with his band
He feasted and ventured and conquered
And unloosed would give in to no man
He lived as a daring sea-raider
And died as a brave man should die
And he sleeps at the old Bonamargie Friary
And the waves sing a dirge to the skies

And it's up wi' bold Sorley McDonald
Sorley-boy McDonald the free
As straight as the masts of his galley
As strong as the waves on the sea