As I came down through Dublin City, at the hour of twelve at night,
Who should I spy, but a Spanish Lady
Washing her feet by the candlelight
First she washed them,then she dried them
Over a fire of amber coals
In all me life I ne'er did see, a maid so sweet about the soul
 [bad word] 
Whack for the Too Rye Ooh Ray Lady,
whack for the Too Rye Ooh Rye Aye

As I came back through Dublin City at the hour of Half past Eight,
Who should I spy but the Spanish Lady, [bad word] her hair in the broad daylight
First she [bad word] it , then she tossed it
On her lap was a [bad word] In all me life I ne'er did see, a maid so fair since I did roam.
 [bad word] 
As I returned to Dublin City, as the sun began to set
Who should I spy but a Spanish lady
Catching a moth, in a golden net.
First she saw me, then she fled me
Lifted her petticoats o'er her knee
In all me life I ne'er did see, a maid so fair as the Spanish Lady
 [bad word]