Now the Queen has a daughter, the bold Princess Anne,
One day she was riding, she met a young man,
His name it was Mark, a dashing young lad,
On the back of a horse he was never afraid,
With my ya, ya, torilia.

As they were a riding, cross meadows and streams,
He knew he us up to a good one, it seems,
Some new tricks at riding, with him she did find,
He was sat towards the front, ah, and sometimes behind,
With my ya, ya, torilia.

Well he popped the question one night in the dark,
She could only say "Yes", as she got of her Mark,
When weddings cost many, as everyone knows,
So they told Mr. Heathon, their wages he froze,
With my ya, ya, torilia.

The news was released, they would wed in the Fall,
Even General Lapmitsa, did some come to the ball,
As the shitheads assembled, the money it cost,
Could be spent on more house, or making more jobs,
With my ya, ya, torilia.

Mark in the army, he said he'd remain,
He'd marry his princess for love and not gain,
She said she'd go with him, his blushing young bride,
And the Queen and Queen mother near broke down and cried,
With my ya, ya, torilia.

The boys in old Ulster, they laughed and they smiled,
Saying "Post him, ah, post him to Belfast a while,
He'll eat more than a horse if he comes over here,
And he'll jump more than fences and not have no fear,
With my ya, ya, torilia.