| As I roved out walking one evening last May
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| A charming young damsel I met on my way
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| She had jewellery and riches, she had diamonds and gold
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| And she said she was a virgin, only nineteen years old
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| I quickly fell in love with this beautiful dame
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| I asked where she came from, and she told me that same
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| In three weeks we were married, and the church bells, they tolled
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| I was married to a virgin, only nineteen years old
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| On awakening next morning, I thought I would faint
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| When she scraped from her two cheeks a full pound of paint
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| And on her left shoulder a hump I behold
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| «Oh,"sayd I, «You're a daisy, only nineteen years old?»
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| She pulled out her fingers 'til she left only three
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| She screwed off her right leg right over the knee
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| She pulled off her false wig, her bald head I behold
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| Oh good God Almighty, only nineteen years old
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| She pulled out her eyebrow which was black and sublime
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| She pulled out her false teeth which was only nine
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| She pulled out her glass eye, on the carpet it rolled
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| Oh bad luck and damnation to your nineteen years old
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| Now all you young fellas, when for marriage you go
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| Examine your true love from the top to the toe
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| And if you don’t do that, like me you’ll be sold
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| To a damsel not nineteen, but a ninety year old |