| In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty
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| I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
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| As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow
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| Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
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| A-live a-live O! |
| A-live a-live O!
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| Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
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| She was a fishmonger and sure it was no wonder
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| For so were her father and mother before
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| And they both wheeled their barrows through streets broad and narrow
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| Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
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| A-live a-live O! |
| A-live a-live O!
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| Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
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| She died of a fever and no one could save her
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| And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
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| Now her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow
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| Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
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| A-live a-live O! |
| A-live a-live O!
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| Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
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| A-live a-live O! |
| A-live a-live O!
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| Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O! |