When I was young and in me prime I courted Biddy McGee,
A fine, big, strapping lump of a woman,
And she stood about two foot three,
Her father was a mean old creature,
He had plenty of gold and land,
But he rared up dog rough,
The dirty, mean, old, miserable, old devil,
When I asked him for his daughter's hand.

I resolved there and then for Molly's sake,
That the two of us would elope,
I borrowed the ladder from Mickey O'Brien,
And twenty yards of good, strong, strapping rope,
I put the ladder up to Molly's boudoir,
That's French for a woman's bed,
But the ladder broke and the whole twenty stone,
Fell down on me bloody head.

Well I threwed her into the ass and cart,
And for the clergy we set out,
I found father Nagle in McCarthy's pub,
With his head in a barrel of stout,
He looked at me with his bleary old eyes,
And sized Molly up and down,
Oh I pity you my son, I'm dying with the thirst, will you buy me two bottles of stout?
I'll only charge you half a crown.

Well, do you take this fine, big, strapping lump of woman,
To be your lawful wedded wife?
Will you feed her bacon and cabbage and spuds,
For the rest of your natural life?
And when the icy wind a-blows around her old legs,
Will you guard her from the chill?
Oh will you buy me another bottle of stout, I'm dying with the drought?
Ah, be Jesus father I will.

Now, I've been married for twenty years and I don't regret one day,
And that was last Wednesday fortnight,
She told me she was in the family way,
I threw her into the ass and cart,
And she landed like a sack,
I brought her back to her old father,
I said listen here you dirty, mean, old, rotten, old, miserable, old devil,
You can have your daughter back.