| In Dublin´s fair city
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| where the girls are so pretty
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| I first set my eyes on sweet
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| Molly Malone
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| She wheel’d her wheelbarrow
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| thro' streets broad and narrow
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| Crying Cockles and mussles alive alive O!
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| Alive alive O ! |
| Alive aliveO !
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| crying cockles and mussles alive alive O !
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| She was a fishmonger
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| But sure it was
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| no wonder
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| For so were her father and mother before
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| And they each wheel’d their barrow
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| thro' streets broad and narrow
|
| Crying Cockles and mussles alive alive O !
|
| Alive alive O ! |
| Alive alive O!
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| crying cockles and mussles alive alive O !
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| She died of a fever
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| and no one could save her
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| And that was the end of
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| sweet Molly Malone
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| But her ghost wheels her barrow
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| thro' streets broad and narrow
|
| Crying Cockles and mussles alive alive O !
|
| Alive alive O ! |
| Alive alive O !
|
| crying cockles and mussles alive alive O ! |