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?
Albert Mooney says he loves her,
All the boys are fighting for her.
They rap at the door and they ring at the bell.
Saying “Oh, my true love are you well”?
Out she comes as white as snow,
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes,
Old Johnny Murray says she'll die,
If she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye.
Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come shovelling from the sky
She's as nice as apple pie
And she'll get her own lad by and by.
When she gets a lad of her own
She won't tell her ma when she gets home
Let them all come as they will,
But ‘tis Albert Mooney she loves still.
