They were married after a hasty funeral, Molly and Crooked Joe
He blamed the rank pervasive odour on sewer problems as far as we know
I don’t know how that foul-mouthed clown won the heart and hand of poor Molly
But the years [bad word] were years of tears and awkward little follies

Molly’s head is off, my love is gone

Joe, that blind ne’er-do-well thought that life ought to be a game
But he almost died from the disappointment with the son who bore his name
I’m sure she tried to save her face with her stiff-necked pride
Oh, Molly, my proud-blooded queen who, was taken for a ride