Ma’am dear, did ye never hear of pretty Molly Brannigan?
In troth, then, she’s left me and I’ll never be a man again.
Not a spot on my hide will a summer’s sun e’er tan again
Since Molly’s gone and left me here alone for to die.
The place where my heart was you’d aisy rowl a turnip in,
‘Tis large as all Dublin, and from Dublin to the Divil’s glen:
If she’d wish’d to take another, sure she might have left mine back again
And not have gone and left me here alone for to die.
Ma’am dear, I remember when the milking time was past and gone
We strolled thro’ the meadow, and she swore I was the only one
That ever she could love, but oh! the base and cruel one,
For all I that she’s left me here alone for to die.
Ma’am dear, I remember when coming home the rain began,
I wrapt my frieze-coat round her and ne’er a waistcoat had I on
And my shirt was rather fine-drawn, but oh! the false and cruel one,
For all that she’s left me here alone for to die.
The left side of my carcase is as weak as water gruel, ma’am,
There’s not a pick upon my bones, since Molly’s proved so cruel ma’am
Oh! if I had a blunder gun, I’d go and fight a duel, ma’am,
For sure I’d better shoot myself than live here to die.
I’m cool an’ determined as any salamander, ma’am,
Won’t you come to my wake when I go the long meander, ma’am?
I’ll think myself as valiant as the famous Alexander, ma’am
When I hear ye cryin’ o’er me, “Arrah! why did ye die?”