chorus: I'll tell my ma when I go home The boys won't leave the girls alone They pulled my hair and they stole my comb But that's alright 'til I go home.
She is handsome she is pretty She is the belle of Belfast City She is courting 1, 2, 3, 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 ring the bell Saying, oh my true love, are you well?
Out she comes, white as snow Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes Old Johnny Murray says she'll die If she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye
Let the wind and 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 'til she comes home Let them come as they will For it's Albert Mooney she loves still.