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I'll tell me ma, when I go home, |
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The boys won't leave the girls alone. |
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They pull my hair, they stole my comb, |
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And that's alright till I go home. |
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She is handsome, she is pretty, |
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She's the belle of Belfast city, |
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She is courtin', one, two, three, |
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Please won't you tell me who is she? |
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|
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Albert Mooney says he loves her, |
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All the boys are fighting for her. |
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They rap at the door and they ring at the bell, |
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Saying 'Oh, my true-love are you well?' |
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Out she comes as white as snow, |
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Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes, |
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Old Jenny Murphy says she'll die, |
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If she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye. |
|
|
|
I'll tell me ma, when I go home, |
|
The boys won't leave the girls alone. |
|
They pull my hair, they stole my comb, |
|
And that's alright till I go home. |
|
She is handsome, she is pretty, |
|
She's the belle of Belfast city, |
|
She is courtin', one, two, three, |
|
Please won't you tell me who is she? |
|
|
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Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high |
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And the snow come tumblin' from the sky |
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She's as sweet as apple pie |
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And she'll get her own lad by and by. |
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When she gets a lad of her own |
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She won't tell her ma when she gets home |
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Let them all come as they will, |
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For it's Albert Mooney she loves still. |
|
|
|
I'll tell me ma, when I go home, |
|
The boys won't leave the girls alone. |
|
They pull my hair, they stole my comb, |
|
And that's alright till I go home. |
|
She is handsome, she is pretty, |
|
She's the belle of Belfast city, |
|
She is courtin', one, two, three, |
|
Please won't you tell me who is she? |
