[Verse]
Oh, the Empire, it is finished, no foreign lands to steal,
So the greedy eye of England is turning towards the seas,
Two hundred miles from Donegal, there's a place that's called Rockall,
And the groping hands of Whitehall are grabbing at its wall.

[Chorus]
Oh, rock on, Rockall, you'll never fall, to Britain's greedy hands,
And you'll meet the same resistance like you did in many lands,
May the seagulls rise and pluck your eyes and the waters crush your shell,
And the natural gas will burn your ass and blow you all to hell.

[Verse]
This rock is part of Ireland, for it's written in folklore,
When Finn McCool took a sod of grass, he threw it to the fore,
Then he tossed a pebble across the sea, where ever did it fall?
The sod became the Isle of Man, the pebble's called Rockall.

[Chorus]
Oh, rock on, Rockall, you'll never fall, to Britain's greedy hands,
And you'll meet the same resistance like you did in many lands,
May the seagulls rise and pluck your eyes and the waters crush your shell,
And the natural gas will burn your ass and blow you all to hell.

[Verse]
Oh, the seas will not be silent while Britannia rules the waves,
And remember that the Irish will no longer be her slaves,
And remember that Britannia, well, you'll rules the waves no more,
So keep your hands off Rockall, she's Irish to the core.

[Chorus]
Oh, rock on, Rockall, you'll never fall, to Britain's greedy hands,
And you'll meet the same resistance like you did in many lands,
May the seagulls rise and pluck your eyes and the waters crush your shell,
And the natural gas will burn your ass and blow you all to hell.