Oh, who will plow the field, or who will sell the corn Oh, who will wash the sheep, and have them nicely shorn The stag that's in the haggard, unthrashed it may remain Since Johnny went a-thrashing the dirty king of Spain
And the girls from the Boyne, in sorrow may retire The piper and his bellows, may go home and blow the fire For Johnny, lovely Johnny, is sailing o'er the main Along with other patriots, to fight the King of Spain
The boys will sorely miss him when mun-a-hoor comes around And grieve that their bold captain is nowhere to be found The Peelers "roughed" and idle against their will and grain For the valiant boy who gives them work now peels the King of Spain
If cruel fate will not permit our Johnny to return His heavy loss, we Bantry girls will never cease to mourn We'll resign ourselves to our sad lot and die in grief and pain Since Johnny died for Ireland's pride in the foreign land of Spain
That makes the yearly matches your like will never see till you come back to us again our stony home wont be and wont you trouse the pockings not show us much disdain because our eyes are not as bright as though you meet in spain
If cruel fate will not permit our Johnny to return His heavy loss, we Bantry girls will never cease to mourn We'll resign ourselves to our sad lot and die in grief and pain For Johnny fought for Ireland's pride in the foreign land of Spain