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In Dublin's fair city, |
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where the girls are so pretty, |
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I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone, |
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As she wheeled her wheel-barrow, |
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Through streets broad and narrow, |
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Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!" |
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"Alive, alive, oh, |
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Alive, alive, oh", |
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Crying "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh". |
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She was a fishmonger, |
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And sure 'twas no wonder, |
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For so were her father and mother before, |
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And they each wheeled their barrow, |
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Through streets broad and narrow, |
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Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!" |
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(chorus) |
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She died of a fever, |
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And no one could save her, |
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And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone. |
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Now her ghost wheels her barrow, |
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Through streets broad and narrow, |
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Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!" |
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(chorus) |
