I'll tell me ma when I go home 

The boys won't leave the girls alone 

They pull my hair, they steal my comb 

But that's all right till I go home 

She is handsome, she is pretty 

She is the belle of Dublin city 

She is courting one, two, three 

Pray, won't you tell me, who is he? 



Albert Mooney says he loves her 

All the boys are fighting for her 

Knock at the door and ring the bell 

Singing 'my true love, are you well?' 

Out she comes as white as snow 

Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes 

Our Jenny Murry says she'll die 

If she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye 



Let the wind and the snow and the hail blow high 

and a fog come tumbling through the sky 

She's as sweet as apple pie 

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 

For it's Albert Mooney she loves still