You may travel from Clare to County Kildare, From Dublin right down to Macroom. But where would you see a fine widow like me Biddy Mulligan, the pride of the Coombe I'm a scrap of a widow that lives in a place, In Dublin that's known as the Coombe. And me comfort and ease sure no king could excel Though me palace consists of one room By Patrick Street corner for thirty-five years, I've stood by me stall, that's no lie And while I stood there, there was no one would dare To say black was the white of me eye I sell apples and oranges, nuts and sweet peas, Bulls eyes and sugar-stick sweet. On a Saturday night I sell second-hand clothes, From me stall on the floor of the street. Now I have a son Mick and he plays on the fife He belongs to the Longford street band It will do your heart good just to see them march out On a Sunday to Sandymount strand You may travel from Clare to County Kildare, From Dublin right down to Macroom. But where would you see a fine widow like me Biddy Mulligan, the pride of the Coombe