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.