Molly Malone
A beautiful fishmonger, a tramp who hung around with the students of Trinity College or, above all, a person who loved life above all else.
As with many Irish stories, the factual core remains in the dark.
Don´t let truth get in the way of a good story.
In Dublin’s fair city
Where the girls are so pretty
I first laid my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow
Through the streets broad and narrow
Crying: “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”
Alive, alive, oh, alive, alive, oh”
Crying: “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”
She was a fishmonger
And sure ’twas no wonder
For so was her father and mother before
And they all wheeled their barrows
Through the streets broad and narrow
Crying: “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”
Alive, alive, oh, alive, alive, oh”
Crying: “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”
She died of fever
And no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
Now her ghost wheels her barrow
Through the streets broad and narrow
Crying: “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”