Mountains o'Mourne

Oh[G], Mary, this London's a wond[C]erful sight [Am]

Wi[D7]th people here working by[G] day and by night

Th[C]ey don't sow [Am]potatoes nor barley nor wheat

Bu[D7]t there's gangs of them digg[G]in' for gold in the street

At[D7] least when I asked them, that's w[G]hat I was tol[Em]d

So[G] I just took a h[Em]and at this dig[Am]gin' for gold [D7]

Bu[G]t for all that I've found there[C], I might as wel[Am]l be

In[D7] the place where the dark Mourne swee[G]ps down to the sea

I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies of London were dressed
But if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball
They don't wear no tops to their dresses at all
Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in truth
Tell if they were bound for a ball or a bath
Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary McRee,
In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea

There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind
Beautiful shapes Nature never designed
Lovely complexions of roses and cream
But let me remark with regard to the same
That if at those roses you venture to sit
The colors might all come away on your lip
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me
In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea

You remember young Diddy McClaren, of course
But he's over here with the rest of the force
I saw him one day as he stood on the strand
Stopped all the traffic with a wave of his hand
As we were talking of days that are gone
The whole town of London stood there to look on
But for all his great powers, he's wishful like me
To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea