The Mountains O'Mourne

(album: Sold Out - 1960)

Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight with people here working by day and by night
They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat but there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street
At least when I asked them that's what I was told so I just took a hand at this digging for gold
But for all that I found there I might as well be where the Mountains O'Mourne sweep down to the sea

I believe that when writing a wish you expressed as to how the fine ladies in London were dressed
Well, if you'll believe me when asked to a ball, they don't wear no top to their dresses at all
Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in truth say that if they were bound for a ball or a bath
Don't be starting them fashions, now, Mary McCree, where the Mountains O'Mourne sweep down to the sea

There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind, with beautiful shapes nature never designed
And lovely complexions, all roses and cream but let me remark with regard to the same
That if at those roses you venture to sip, the colors might all come away on your lip
So, I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me in the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea