Book of Song

I'll Tell Me Ma

by trad

I’ll tell me ma when I get home
The boys won’t leave the girls alone
They pull my hair, they steal my comb
But that’s all right till I get home

She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast city
She is courting one, two, three
Hey, won’t you tell me, who is he?

Albert Mooney says he loves her
All the boys are fighting for her
Knock at the door and ring the bell
Hey, my true love, are you well

Out she comes as white as snow
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Our Jenny Murry says she’ll die
If she doesn’t get the fellow with the roving eye

Let the wind and the rain and the hail go high
Snow come tumbling from the sky
She’s as nice as apple pie
She’ll get a fellow by and by

When she gets a lad of her own
She won’t tell her ma when she gets home
Let them all come as they will
It’s Albert Mooney she loves still