[bad word]  
I'll tell my ma when I go home
The boys won't leave the girls alone
They pulled my hair and they stole [bad word] 
But that's alright 'til I go home.

She is handsome she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast City
She is courting 1, 2, 3,
Please won't you tell me who is she?

Albert Mooney says he loves her
All the boys are fighting for her
They knock at the door and ring the bell
Saying, oh my [bad word] love, are you well?

Out [bad word]  white as snow
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
Old Johnny Murray says she'll die
If she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye

Let the wind and rain and the hail blow high
And the [bad word] tumbling from the sky
She's as nice as apple pie
She'll get her own lad  by and by

When she gets a lad of her own
She won't tell her ma 'til [bad word] home
Let [bad word] as they will
For it's Albert Mooney she loves still.