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:
Recorded Clancys (I think) rg
Filename[ biddymul
Play. Exe biddymul
Rg
===Document boundary===
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: Recorded Clancys (I think) rg Filename[ biddymul Play. Exe biddymul Rg ===Document boundary=== Explain Request ×
Lyrics taken from
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