[VERSE 1] Em Come all young men where e'er you be and listen to me lamentations
 Em I courted a girl beyond compare and I loved her with admiration Em A Bm At length in time she became my wife, twas not for beauty but for riches D G Em Bm Em And all the time it causes strife, to see which of us will wear the britches [VERSE 2] Em O Paddy Kane it is my name, me height it is five foot eleven Em and Me wife is nearly not so big, she only measures four feet seven Em A Bm The hedges I have oft times stripped, I've left them bare of rods and switches
 D G Em Bm Em Her skin with blows sure I’ve turned black, but still she says she'll wear my britches [VERSE 3] Em Well I am a tailor to my trade, at cutting out I am quite handy Em But all the money that I make, she lays it out on tea and brandy
 Em A Bm Now sometimes I do shout and ball with nothing going with rogues and witches
 D G Em Bm Em Her head goes oft times to the wall, still she says she'll wear me britches [VERSE 4] Em One morning at the tea and eggs, content and sitting by the fire Em Well She broke the teapot on my legs, and left me leapin to retire Em A Bm How often do I shout and moan, as I go hopping on my crutches D G Em Bm Em I wished I'd broke her collar bone, the day I let her wear me britches [VERSE 5] Em So come all young men where e'er you be, don't marry a wife if she's enchantin Em For if you do, you'll be like me, with other men she'll go gallanting Em A Bm Now my advice it is to you, to marry for love and not for riches,
 D G Em Bm Em And be sure of a wife with a civil tongue, who'll give you leave to wear your britches.

’Sé do bheatha, a bhean ba léanmhar do bé ár gcreach tú bheith i ngéibhinn do dhúiche bhreá i seilbh meirleach 's tú díolta leis na Gallaibh. Chorus: Óró, sé do bheatha bhaile óró, sé do bheatha bhaile óró, sé do bheatha bhaile anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh. Tá Gráinne Mhaol ag teacht thar sáile óglaigh armtha léi mar gharda, Gaeil iad féin is ní Francaigh ná Spáinnigh 's cuirfidh siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh. Chorus A bhuí le Rí na bhFeart go bhfeiceam muna mbeam beo ina dhiaidh ach seachtain Gráinne Mhaol agus míle gaiscíoch ag fógairt fáin ar Ghallaibh. Chorus Hail, oh woman, who was so afflicted, It was our ruin that you were in chains, Our fine land in the possession of thieves... While you were sold to the foreigners! Chorus: Oh-ro, welcome home Oh-ro, welcome home Oh-ro, welcome home Now that summer's coming! Gráinne Mhaol is coming over the sea, Armed warriors as her guard, Only Gaels are they, not French nor Spanish... and they will rout the foreigners! Chorus May it please the King of Prodigy that we might see, Although we may live but one week after, Gráinne Mhaol and a thousand warriors... Dispersing the foreigners! Chorus

Black is the colour of my true loves hair His lips are like some roses fair He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon he stands I love my love and well he knows I love the ground whereon he goes I wish that day would soon come When he and I can be as one I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep For satisfied I never sleep I write him letters just a few short lines And I suffer death ten thousand times Black is…

Véarsa a haon Cé hé siúd thíos 'tá ag leagadh na gclaíochaí? x 3 (Who is that down there knocking down the (stone) walls?) "Mise mé féin" a deir Cúnnla. ("Me, myself" says Cúnla.) Curfá A Chúnla a chroí ná tar níos goire dhom! x 3 (Cúnnla dear don't come any nearer to me!) Go deimhin muise tiocfaidh! a deir Cúnla. ("Surely I will!" says Cúnla.) Véarsa a dó Cé hé siúd thíos 'tá ag buaileadh na fuinneoige? x 3 (Who is that down there knocking the windows?) "Mise mé féin" a deir Cúnla. ("Me, myself" says Cúnla.) Véarsa a trí Cé hé siúd thíos 'tá ag fadú na tine dhom? x 3 (Who is that down there fanning the fire for me?) "Mise mé féin" a deir Cúnla. ("Me, myself" says Cúnla.) Véarsa a ceathar Cé hé siúd thíos 'tá a' cur uisce sa gciteal dhom? x 3 (Who is that down there putting water into the kettle for me?) "Mise mé féin" a deir Cúnnla. ("Me, myself" says Cúnla.) Véarsa a cúig Cé hé siúd thíos 'tá ag tarraingt na pluide dhíom? x 3 (Who is that down there pulling the blanket off me?) "Mise mé féin" a deir Cúnnla. ("Me, myself" says Cúnla.) Véarsa a sé Cé hé siúd thíos 'tá ag tochas mo bhonnachaí? x 3 (Who is that down there tickling the soles of my feet?) "Mise mé féin" a deir Cúnla. ("Me, myself" says Cúnla.)