Formerly in the Irish Packet
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 “cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o!”
Alive, alive-o, alive, alive-o!
Crying “cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o!”
She was a fishmonger, but sure 'twas no wonder
For so were her father and mother before
And they each wheeled their barrow
Through…
She died of a faver, and no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
But her ghost wheels her barrow
Through…