In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

She was a fishmonger and sure it was no wonder
For so were her father and mother before
And they both wheeled their barrows through streets broad and narrow
Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

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 [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!

A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying [bad word] and mussels alive a-live O!