Mountains O'mourne Lyrics - Don Mclean

Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight 

With people here working 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've found there, I might as well be 

In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea 

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I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed 

As to how the fine ladies of London were dressed 

But if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball 

They don't wear no tops to their dresses at all 

Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in truth 

Tell if they were bound for a ball or a bath 

Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary McRee, 

In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea 

There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind 

Beautiful shapes Nature never designed 

Lovely complexions of roses and cream 

But let me remark with regard to the same 

That if at those roses you venture to sit 

The colors might all come away on your lip 

So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me 

In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea 

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You remember young Diddy McClaren, of course 

But he's over here with the rest of the force 

I saw him one day as he stood on the strand 

Stopped all the traffic with a wave of his hand 

As we were talking of days that are gone 

The whole town of London stood there to look on 

But for all his great powers, he's wishful like me 

To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea