I'll tell me ma when I get home
The boys won't leave the girls alone
They pull my hair, they steal my comb
But that's all right till I get home
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast city
She is courting 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
Knock at the door and ring the bell
Hey, 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
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