As I went out through Dublin city
At the hour of twelve at night
Who should I see but the Spanish lady
Washing her hair by candlelight
First she washed it, then she dried it
Over a fire of amber coal
In all my life I never did see
A maid so sweet about the soul
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
As I went out through Dublin city
At the hour of half past eight
Who do I see but the Spanish lady
Combing her hair so trim and neat
First she brushed it, then she combed it
On her lap was a silver comb
In all my life I never did see
A maid so sweet since I did roam
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
As I walked out through Dublin city
As the sun began to set
Who should I see but the Spanish lady
Catch a moth in her golden net
First she spied me then she fled me
Hitching her petticoat over her knee
In all my life never did I see
A maid so fair as the Spanish Lady
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-laddy
Whack for the tur-a-lur-a-lay