| In the days I went a-courtin', I was never tired resortin'
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| To an alehouse or a playhouse and many’s the house beside
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| But I told me brother Seamus, I’d go off and be right famous
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| And I’d never would return again till I’d roam the world wide
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| Goodbye Muirsheen Durkin, I’m sick and tired of workin'
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| No more, I’ll dig the prates and no longer, I’ll be fooled
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| As sure as me name is Carney, I’ll be off to Californy
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| Where instead of diggin' prates, I’ll be diggin' lumps of gold
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| I’ve courted girls in Blarney, in Kanturk, and in Killarney
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| In Passage and in Queenstown; |
| that is the Cobh of Cork
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| Goodbye to all me pleasure, I’ll be off to take me leisure
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| And the next time that you hear from me will be a letter from New York
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| Goodbye to all the girls at home, I’m going far across the foam
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| To try and make me fortune in far America
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| There’s gold and jewels in plenty for the poor and for the gentry
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| And when I return again I never more will say |