\nb | G | | | C | | | G D7 | | | G | \nb |
G | C | G | |||
I’ll | tell | me Ma when | I | go | home, |
D7 | G | |||
The | boys | won’t leave the | girls | alone. |
G | C | G | |||
They | pull | ed me hair, they | stole | me | comb, |
D7 | G | |||
But | that | ’s alright ’till | I | go home. |
G | C | ||
She | is handsome, | she | is pretty. |
G | D7 | ||
She | is the Belle of | Dubl | in City. |
G | C | ||
She | is a courtin’ a | one, | two, three. |
G | D7 | G | |||
Pray | won’t you | tell | me, | who | is she? |
G | C | G | |||
Albe | rt Mooney sa | y’s | he | loves | her. |
D7 | G | ||
All | the boy’s are | figh | ting for her. |
G | C | G | ||
Knock | at the door and they | ring | at the | bell |
D7 | G | |||
Singin’ “ | Oh | me true love, | are | you well?” |
G | C | ||
Out | she comes as | white | as snow, |
G | D7 | ||
Rings | on her fingers, | bells | on her toes. |
G | C | ||
Ole | Jenny Murray | says | she’ll die |
G | D7 | G | ||||
If she | does | n’t get the | fell | a with the | roving | eye. |
\nb | G | | | G | | | D7 | | | G | \nb |
\nb | G | | | G | | | D7 | | | G | \nb |
\nb | G | | | C | | | G | | | D7 | \nb |
\nb | G | | | G | | | G D7 | | | G | \nb |
G | C | G | |||
Let the | wind | and the rain and | hail | blow | high |
D7 | G | |||
And the | snow | come travelin’ | through | the sky, |
G | G | ||
She | ’s as sweet as | app | le pie. |
D7 | G | ||
She | ’ll get her own lad | by | and by. |
G | C | ||
When | she gets a | lad | of her own, |
G | D7 | |||
She | won’t | tell her Ma when | she | gets home. |
G | C | ||
Let | them all come | as | they will |
G | D7 | G | ||||
For it’s | Albe | rt | Moon | ey | she | loves still. |