Malone

In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty
 I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
 As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow
 Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

 A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
 Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

 She was a fishmonger and sure it was no wonder
 For so were her father and mother before
 And they both wheeled their barrows through streets broad and narrow
 Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

 A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
 Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

 She died of a fever and no one could save her
 And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
 Now her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow
 Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

 A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
 Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!
 A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
 Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!