There's a woman in erin who'd give me shelter and my fill of ale;
There's a woman in ireland who'd prefer my strains to strings being played;
There's a woman in eirinn and nothing would please her more
Than to see me burning or in a grave lying cold.

There's a woman in eirinn who'd be mad with envy if i was kissed
By another on fair-day, they have strange ways, but i love them all;
There are women i'll always adore, battalions of women and more
And there's this sensuous beauty and she shackled to an ugly boar.

There's a woman who promised if i'd wander with her i'd find some gold
A woman in night dress with a loveliness worth more than the woman
Who vexed ballymoyer and the plain of tyrone;
And the only cure for my pain i'm sure is the ale-house down the road.