Where [bad word] lovers meets and beneath the green bower 
Where [bad word] lovers meet and beneath a green tree 
And Mary oh found Mary she says until our [bad word] love 
You have stolen my young heart on the banks of the Lee 

And I loved her very dearly most [bad word] and sincerely 
There is no one in this wild world I loved more than she 
Every bush end every bower every wild Irish flower 
Reminds me on my Mary on the banks of the Lee 

Don't stay here too late long on the moorlands my Mary 
Don't stay here loo late long on the moorlands for me 
But it's little was my notion when we parted by the ocean 
But we were forever parted from the banks of the Lee 

I will pore my love some roses some wild Irish roses 
I will pore my love some roses the fairest as I see 
And I lay among the graveside of my own dear darling Mary 
On that cold and silent grave where she sleeps beneath the tree