Dear Mary this London's
a wonderful sight
Oh There’s people here
workin' by day and by night
They don't plant potatoes
nor barley, or 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 found there
I might as well be
Where the Mountains of Mourne
sweep down to the sea
I believe that in writin'
a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies
in London are dressed
Well if you'll believe me
when asked to a ball
Oh They don't wear no tops
to their dresses at all
Oh I've seen them myself
and you could not in truth
Say if they were bound
for a ball or a bath
Don't go startin' them fashions
now Mary McCree
Where the Mountains of Mourne
sweep down to the sea
You remember young
Danny McClearin of course
Well he’s over here
with the rest of the force
I saw him today
while I was walking the strand
And he stopped all the traffic
with a wave of his hand
And as we stood talking of days
that had gone
The whole town of London
stood there to look on
But for all his great power
he’s wishful like me
To be back
where the dark Mourne
sweeps down to the sea
<Interlude>
Oh There's beautiful ladies
now never you mind
Loveliest shapes
nature never designed
lovely complexions
of roses and cream
But let me remark with
regard to the same
For if that those roses
you venture to sip
The color would
all come away on your lip
So I'll wait for the wild rose
that's waitin' for me
Where the mountains of mourne
sweep down to the sea