Molly Malone

In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty,Molly Malone
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone.
As she pushed her wheel barrow,
through streets broad and narrow,
crying: cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh.
Alive, alive, oh. Alive, alive oh.
Crying: “cockles and mussels alive alive oh.”

She was a fishmonger, but sure ’t was no wonder,
for so were her father and mother before.
And they each wheeled their barrows,
through streets broad and narrow,
crying: cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh.
Alive, alive, oh. Alive, alive oh.
Crying: “cockles and mussels alive alive oh.”

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: cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh.

(2x) Alive, alive, oh. Alive, alive oh.
Crying: “cockles and mussels alive alive oh.