Mountains of Mourne

Oh Mary this London's a wonderful sight
 There's people here working by day and by night
 They don't sew potatoes nor barley nor wheat
 There's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street
 At least when I asked them that's what I was told
 So I took me a hand at this digging for gold
 But for all that I've found there I might as well be
 Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
 You remember old Peter O'Loughlin of course
 He's here now at the head of the force
 I saw him today he was crossing the strand
 He stopped the whole line with a wave of his hand
 And as we stood talking the days that are gone
 The whole population of London looked on
 But for all his fine powers he's wishful like me
 To be where the dark Mournes sweep down to the sea
 There's beautiful girls here oh, never you mind
 With beautiful shapes nature never designed
 With lovely complexions all roses and cream
 But O'Loughlin remarked with regards to the same
 "Of all these fine flowers you venture to sip
 The colour might all come away on your lip"
 So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me
 Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
 Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight