At the hour of twelve o?clock at night
 Who should I see but a Spanish lady
 Washing her feet by candle light
 First she washed them and then she dried them
 Over a fire of ambry coals
 In all my life I never did see
 A maid so sweet about the soles

 Whack fol the toor a loor a laddy
 Whack fol the toor a loor a lay
 Whack fol the toor a loor a laddy
 Whack fol the toor a loor a lay

 I stopped to look but the watchman passed
 Says he, "Young fellow, the night is late
 Along with you home or I will wrestle you
 Straight away through the Bridewell gate"
 I threw a look to the Spanish lady
 Hot as the fire of ambry coals
 In all my life I never did see
 A maid so sweet about the soles

 As I walked back through Dublin City
 As the dawn of day was o?er
 Who should I see but the Spanish lady
 When I was weary and footsore
 She had a heart so filled with loving
 And her love she longed to share
 In all my life I never did see
 A maid who had so much to spare
 Now she?s no mot for a puddle swaddy
 With her ivory comb and her mantle so fine
 But she?d make a wife for the Provost Marshall
 Drunk on brandy and claret wine
 I got a look from the Spanish lady
 Hot as a fire of ambry coals
 In all my life I never did meet
 A maid so sweet about the soles

 I?ve wandered north and I?ve wandered south
 By Stoney Batter and Patrick?s Close
 Up and around by the Gloucester Diamond
 And back by Napper Tandy?s house
 Old age has laid her hands upon me
 Cold as a fire of ashy coals
 But where is the lonely Spanish lady
 Neat and sweet about the soles?
 As I was leaving Dublin City
 On that morning sad of heart
 Lonely was I for the Spanish lady
 Now that forever we must part
 But still I always will remember
 All the hours we did enjoy
 But then she left me sad at parting
 Gone forever was my joy