Mountains of Mourne

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

I believe that when writin' a wish you express, 
As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed, 
Well if you believe me, when asked to a Ball, 
Faith, they don't wear a top to their dresses at all. 

Oh I've seen them myself and you could not in truth, 
Say if they were bound for a Ball or a bath. 
Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary macree, 
Where the Mountains fo Mourne sweep down to the sea. 

I've seen England's King from the top of a bus, 
I've never known him, tho' he means to know us. 
And tho' by the Saxon we once were oppressed, 
Still, I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest. 

And now that he's visited Erin's green shore, 
We'll be much better friends that we've been heretofore, 
When we've got all we want we're as quiet as can be, 
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea. 

You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course, 
Well now, he is here at the head of the Force. 
I met him today, I was crossing the Strand. 
And he stopped the whole street with one wave of his hand. 

And there we stood talkin' of days that are gone, 
While the whole population of London looked on. 
But for all these great powers he's wishfull like me, 
To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.