From sweet Londonderry, oh, to fair London town
|
There is no better harbour anywhere to be found
|
Where the children each evening are round the seashore
|
And the joybells are ringing for the maids of Culmore
|
The first time I saw my love she passed me by
|
And the next time I saw her she bade me goodbye
|
And the third time I saw her she grieved my heart sore
|
And she sailed down Lough Foyle and away from Culmore
|
To the north parts of America I will go my love see
|
Where I will know no one, oh, or no one knows me
|
And it's if I don't find her I'll return back no more
|
Like an exile I will wander from the maid of Culmore
|
|
-----------------
|
The Maid Of Culmore
|
| Gerry Rafferty |
