Irish Song Lyrics 
from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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: