Dear Mary this London's a wonderful sight
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Oh There¡¯s people here workin' by day and by night
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They don't plant potatoes, nor barley, or wheat
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But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street
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At least when I asked them that's what I was told
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So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold
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But for all that I found there I might as well be
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Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
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I believe that in writin' a wish you expressed
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As to how the fine ladies in London are dressed
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Well if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball
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Oh They don't wear no tops to their dresses at all
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Oh I've seen them myself and you could not in truth
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Say if they were bound for a ball or a bath
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Don't go startin' them fashions, now Mary McCree
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Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
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Oh There's beautiful ladies, now never you mind
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Loveliest shapes nature never designed
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lovely complexions of roses and cream
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But let me remark with regard to the same
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For if that those roses you venture to sip
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The color would all come away on your lip
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So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me
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In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
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You remember young Danny McClearin of course
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Well he¡¯s over here with the rest of the force
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I saw him today while I was walking the strand
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And he stopped all the traffic with a wave of his hand
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And as we stood talking of days that had gone
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The whole town of London stood there to look on
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But for all his great power he¡¯s wishful like me
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To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea
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Where the mountains of mourne sweep down to the sea
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The Mountains Of Mourne
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| Charlie Landsborough |
