In Dublin's Fair City, where the girls are so pretty,
'Twas there I first met my sweet Molly Malone.
She drove a wheel-barrow thro' streets broad and narrow,
Crying "COCKLES AND MUSSELS, a-live, a-live-o

A-live, alive-o! A-live, a-live-o!
Crying "COCKLES AND MUSSELS, a-live, a-live-o!

She was a fishing-monger, and that was no wonder,
For so was her father and mother before.
They drove their wheel-barrows thro' streets broad and narrow,
Crying "COCKLES AND MUSSELS, a-live, a-live-o"

She died of the fever, and nothing could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
But her ghost drives a barrow thro' streets broad and narrow,
Crying "COCKLES AND MUSSELS, a-live, a-live-o"

A-live, alive-o! A-live, a-live-o!
Crying "COCKLES AND MUSSELS, a-live, a-live-o!"