The Mountains of Mourne
Jim McCann
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Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight
With its people all working by day and by night
They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat
But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street
At least when I asked them, that's what I was told
So I just took a hand at this digging for gold
But for all that I found here, I might as well be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
There's beautiful girls here, oh never you mind
Beautiful shapes nature never designed
Lovely complexions of roses and cream
But let me remark with regard to the same
That if of these roses you venture to sip
You might find they'd all come away on your lip
Don't be starting these fashions, oh Mary McGree
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
You remember young Danny McClaren, of course
Well, he's over here with the rest of the force
I met him one day as I crossed o'er the Strand
And he stopped all the cars with one wave of his hand
And as we stood talking of days that were gone
The whole town of London stood still and looked on
But for all his great powers, he's wishful like me
To be back where the dark Mourne sweep down to the sea
To be back where the dark Mourne sweep down to the sea