I'll tell me ma when I get home The boys won't leave the girls alone They pull my hair, they steal 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 courting one, two, three Hey, won't you tell me, who is he? Albert Mooney says he loves her All the boys are fighting for her Knock at the door and ring the bell Hey, my true love, are you well Out she comes as white as snow Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes Our Jenny Murry says she'll die If she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye Let the wind and the rain and the hail go high Snow come tumbling from the sky She's as nice as apple pie She'll get a fellow 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
