Oh mary this london's a wonderful sight With the people here working by day and by night They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat But there's gangs of them that's what I've been told So I just ook a hand at this digging for gold But all that I found there I might as well be Where the mountains of mourne sweep down to the sea I believe that when writing 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 a top 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 be starting them fashions now, marry machree 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 dark mourne sweeps down to the sea
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 all those roses you venture to sip, The colour might all come away on your lip So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me Where the mountains of mourne sweep down to the sea
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