(Percy French)      Oh, Mary this London's a wonderful sight   With the people here workin' by day and by night   They don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat   But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street.      At least when I asked them that's what I was told   So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold   But for all that I found there I might as well be   Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.      I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed   As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed   Well, if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball   They don't wear no top to their dresses at all.      Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in truth   They say that if they were bound for a ball or a bath   Don't be startin' them fashions, now Mary McCree   Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.      You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course   Well, now he is here at the head of the force   I met him today, I was crossing the Strand   And he stopped the whole street with one wave of his hand.      And there we stood talking of days that are gone   While the whole population of London looked on   But for all these great powers, he's wishful, like me   To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.      --- Instrumental ---      There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind   With beautiful shapes nature never designed   And lovely complexions all roses and cream   But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same.      That if at those roses you venture to sip   The colors might all come away on your lip   So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me   Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea...