Mountains Of Mourne

Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight

The people here are working by day and by night

They don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat

But there's gangs of them

diggin' for gold in the street

At least, when I asked them, that's what I was told

So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold

But for all that I've found there I might as well be

In the place where the dark Mournes

sweep down to the sea

There's beautiful girls here, oh never you mind

Beautiful shapes nature never designed

Lovely complexions of roses and cream

But let me remark with regard to the same

That if at those roses you venture to sip

Colors might all come away on your lips

So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin for me

In the place where the dark Mournes

sweep down to the sea

You remember young Davey McClaren of course

Well sure now he's round here with the rest of the force

I saw him one day as I was crossin the strand

And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand

And as we stood talkin of days that are gone

The whole town of London stood there to look on

But for all his great powers he's wishful like me

To be back where the dark Mournes sweep down to the sea

But for all his great powers he's wishful like me

To be back where the dark Mournes sweep down to the sea