Vārdi: Tarkio. 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 old Auckland 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 that you never designed

With lovely complexions all roses and cream



Of all these fine flowers you venture to sip

You know they 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