There's a woman in erin who'd give me shelter and my fill of ale;

There's a woman in ireland who'd prefer my strains to strings being played;

There's a woman in eirinn and nothing would please her more

Than to see me burning or in a grave lying cold.



There's a woman in eirinn who'd be mad with envy if i was kissed

By another on fair-day, they have strange ways, but i love them all;

There are women i'll always adore, battalions of women and more

And there's this sensuous beauty and she shackled to an ugly boar.



There's a woman who promised if i'd wander with her i'd find some gold

A woman in night dress with a loveliness worth more than the woman

Who vexed ballymoyer and the plain of tyrone;

And the only cure for my pain i'm sure is the ale-house down the road.


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