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In Dublin's fair city, |
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where the girls are so pretty, |
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I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone, |
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As she wheeled her wheel-barrow, |
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Through streets wide and narrow, |
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Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive alive oh!" |
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"Alive-a-live-oh, |
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Alive-a-live-oh", |
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Crying "Cockles and mussels, alive alive oh". |
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She was a fishmonger, |
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And sure 'twas no wonder, |
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For so was her mother and father before, |
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And they each wheeled their barrow, |
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Through streets wide and narrow, |
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Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh!" |
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(chorus) |
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She died of a fever, |
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And no one could save her, |
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And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone. |
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Now her ghost wheels her barrow, |
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Through streets wide and narrow, |
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Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh!" |
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(chorus) |
