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!"

She was a fishmonger, but sure 'twas no wonder,
For so were her father and mother before;
They wheeled a wheel-barrow through streets
broad and narrow
Crying,"cockles and mussels: alive, alive, O!"

She died of a fever, and no one could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Mollie Malone;
Now a ghost wheels her barrow through streets
broad and narrow,
Crying,"cockles and mussels: alive, alive O!"