Tell Me Ma

I'll tell me ma when I go home
The boys won't leave the girls alone,
They pull my hair and they stole my comb,
But that's alright 'til I go home.

She is handsome, she is pretty,
She's the belle of Belfast city,
She is courtin' one, two, three,
Please won't you tell me who is she.

Albert Mooney says he loves her,
All the boys are fighting for her,
They knock at the door and they ring at the bell,
Saying Oh my true love are you well.

Out she comes, ready to go,
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes,
Old Jenny Murray says she'll die
If she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye.

Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come tumbling from the sky,
She's as nice as apple pie,
She'll get her own lad by and by.

When she gets a lad of her own
She won't tell her ma when she goes home,
Let them all come as they will
For it's Albert Mooney she loves still.

To hear a version of this song by Slainte from MP3.com go here.