Biddy Mulligan, The Pride of the Coombe
cho:
You may travel from Clare to the county Kildare

From Francis Street back to the Coombe;
But where would you see a fine widow like me?
Biddy Mulligan the pride of the Coombe, me boys,

Biddy Mulligan the pride of the Coombe.
I'm a buxom fine widow, I live in a spot
In Dublin, they call it the Coombe.

Me shops and me stalls are laid out on the street,
And me palace consists of one room.
I sell apples and oranges, nuts and sweet peas,

Bananas and sugar stick sweet.
On a Saturday night I sell second-hand clothes,
From the floor of me stall in the street.

cho:
I sell fish on a Friday, spread out on a board;
The finest you'll find in the sea.

But the best is my herrings, fine Dublin Bay herrings,
There's herrings for dinner and tea.
I have a son, Mick, he's great on the flute,

He plays in the Longford Street band;
It would do your heart good for to see him march out
On a Sunday for Dollymount Strand.

cho:
In the park, on a Sunday, I make quite a dash;
The neighbors look on in surprise.

With my Aberdeen shawlie thrown over my head,
I dazzle the sight of their eyes.
At Patrick Street corner, for sixty-four years,

I've stood, and no one can deny
That while I stood there, nobody could dare
To say black was the white of my eye.

cho: