In Dublin's fair city,
where the girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying,  [bad word] and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"

"Alive, alive, oh,
Alive, alive, oh",
Crying  [bad word] and mussels, alive, alive, oh".

She was a fishmonger,
And sure 'twas no wonder,
For so were her father and mother before,
And they each wheeled their barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying,  [bad word] and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"

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, alive, oh!"