| As I came down to Dublin city
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| At the hour of half past eight
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| Who should I see but the Spanish lady
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| Brushing her hair in brought daylight
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| First she brushed it, then she tossed it
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| On her lap was a silver comb
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| In all my life I ne’er did see
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| So fair a maid since I did roam
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah laddie
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah lay
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah laddie
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah lay
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| As I came back to Dublin City
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| At the hour of twelve in the night
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| Who should I see but the Spanish lady
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| Washing her feet by candlelight
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| When she spied me, quick she fled me
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| Lifting her petticoats over her knee
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| In all my life I ne’er did see
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| A maid so fair as the Spanish lady
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah laddie
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah lay
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah laddie
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah lay
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| I stopped to look but the watchman passed
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| Says he, young fella the night is late
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| Along with you now or I will wrestle you
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| Straightway through the Bridewell Gate
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| I blew a kiss to the Spanish lady
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| Hot as a fire of angry coals
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| In all my life I ne’er did see
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| A maid so sweet about the soul
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah laddie
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah lay
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah laddie
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah lay
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| I’ve wandered north and I’ve wandered south
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| Through Stoneybatter and Patrick’s Close
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| Up and around by the Gloucester Diamond
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| Round by Napper Tandy’s house
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| Old age had laid her hand on me
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| Cold as a fire of ashy coals
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| But where is the lovely Spanish lady
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| Neat and sweet about the soul
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah laddie
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah lay
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah laddie
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| Whack fol the toorah loorah lay |