An Agricultural Irish Girl - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
An Agricultural Irish Girl 
If all the girls that's In this town were bundled up together, The girl I love would beat them all In every kind of weather; The rain can't wash the powder off, because she dees not wear it Iter face and figure is all her own, that's the truth, for I declare it. Chorus. For she's a great big stout, lump of an agricultural Irish girl. She never paints or powders, for her figure Is all her own; She can strike that bard you'd think you were hit by the kick of a mule, The full of the house of Irish love is Mary Ann Malone. 
She has no grand education, for she's only past her letters. But for anything like a lady, faith, you'll seldom find her betters; She does not speak Italian or read the fashion pages-Whenever there's a strike about, she's the divil to kick for wages. 
She was only seventeen last grass, and still improving greatly, I wonder what she will be like when her bones have set complately; You'd think your hand was in a vise whenever she goes to shake it And if there is any free beer about she's the darling girl to take it.