I´ll tell me ma when I get home
The boys won´t leave the girls alone
They pulled me hair, they stole me comb
But that´s all right till I go home
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast city
She is courting one, two, three
Hey, won´t you tell me, who is he?

Albert Mooney said he loved her
All the boys were fighting for her
Ring the bell they rap at the door
Saying: Ah, me true love, are you well?
Out she comes as white as snow
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Old Jenny Murray says she´ll die
If she doesn´t get the fellow with the rolling eye

Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow came shovelling from the sky
She´s as nice as apple pie
And she´ll gets her own lad by and by
When she gets a lad of her own
She won´t tell her ma when she comes home
Let them all come as they will
But it´s Albert Mooney she loves still