Fire in the Glen

Cockles & Mussels

In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone.
She wheeled her wheel-barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels, alive, alive-O!

CHORUS:
Alive, alive-O! Alive, alive-O!
Crying cockles and mussels, alive, alive-O!

She was a fish-monger, and sure 'twas no wonder
For so were her father and mother before,
They wheeled their wheel-barrows
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels, alive, alive-O!

CHORUS

She died of a fever, and no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
But her ghost wheels her barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels, alive, alive-O!

CHORUS

Traditional.

I'll Tell Me Ma

CHORUS:
I'll tell me ma when I go home
The boys won't leave the girls alone.
They pulled my hair and stole my comb,
But that's all right 'till I get home.
She is handsome, she is pretty,
She is the belle of Belfast city.
She is courtin' one two three.
Please can you tell me who is she?

Albert Mooney says he loves her,
All the boys are fightin' for her.
They rap at the door and they ring at the bell,
Sayin' 'Oh, my true love, are you well?'
Out she comes as white as snow
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes.
Old Jenny Murray says she'll die
If she doesn't get the fella with the rovin' eye.

CHORUS

Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come tumblin' from the sky.
She's as sweet 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 when she gets home.
Let them all come as they will,
It's Albert Mooney she loves still.

CHORUS

Traditional.

The Mermaid

Twas Friday morn when we set sail
And we were not far from the land,
When the captain, he spied a lovely mermaid
With a comb and a glass in her hand.

CHORUS:
Oh, the ocean waves will roll
And the stormy winds will blow
While we poor sailors go skipping at the top
And the landlubbers lie down below below below,
And the landlubbers lie down below.

Then up spoke the captain of our gallant ship,
And a brave old man was he.
He said, "This fishy mermaid has warned me of our doom,
We shall sink to the bottom of the sea."

CHORUS

And up spoke the cabin boy of our gallant ship
And a fine young lad was he.
"I have me a wife in Salem by the sea
And tonight she'll be grieving for me."

CHORUS

And up spoke the cook of our gallant ship
And a mad old man was he.
He said, "I care much more for my pots and my pans
Than I do for the bottom of the sea."

CHORUS

Then three times around went our gallant ship
And three times 'round went she.
Three times around went our gallant ship
And she sank to the bottom of the sea.

CHORUS

Traditional.

Old Dun Cow

Some friends and I in a public house
Were playing dominoes one night,
When into the room the barman came,
His face all chalky white.
"What's up?" says Brown. "Have you seen a ghost?"
"Have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
"Oh me Aunt Mariah be buggered," says he.
"The bleeding pubs on fire."

"Oh," says Brown, "What a bit of luck,
Everybody follow me.
It's down to the cellar if the fire's not there
We'll have a grand old spree."
So we all went down with good old Brown
And the booze we could not miss.
And we hadn't been there five minutes or more
Till we were all quite pissed.

CHORUS:
Oh, there was Brown, upside down
Lapping up the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze" the firemen cried
As they came knockin' at the door.
Don't let 'em in till it's all mopped up!
Somebody shouted, "MacIntyre!"
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.

Then Smith ran over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks.
He started taking off his pantaloons,
Likewise his shoes and socks.
Oh don't do that, that's not allowed,
You can't do that in here.
Don't go washing your trotters in the port wine tub
When we've got all this Lite beer.

CHORUS

Then there came a mighty crash,
Half the bloody roof gave way.
We were drowned by the fireman's hose
But we were going to stay.
So we got some tacks and old wet sacks
And we tacked ourselves inside.
And we sat swallowin' pints of stout
'Til we were bleary eyed.

CHORUS

Traditional.

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