The boys won't leave the girls alone.

They pull my hair, they stole

my comb And that's all right

till I go home.

She is handsome,she is pretty

She is 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 Jenny Murphy 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 Shoveling 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,