Oh, Mary this London's a wonderful sight With the people here workin' 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 found there I might as well be Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed Well, if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball They don't wear no top to their dresses at all.
Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in truth They say that if they were bound for a ball or a bath Don't be startin' them fashions, now Mary McCree Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course Well, now he is here at the head of the force I met him today, I was crossing the Strand And he stopped the whole street with one wave of his hand.
And there we stood talking of days that are gone While the whole population of London looked on But for all these great powers, he's wishful, like me To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
--- Instrumental ---
There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind With beautiful shapes nature never designed And lovely complexions all roses and cream But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same.
That if at those roses you venture to sip The colors might 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...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
