Mountains of Mourne

 

Versión de Don McLean de la canción irlandesa escrita por Percy French (1854-1920), y música  adaptada por Houston Collisson (1865-1920) de la melodía  tradicional irlandesa "Carrigdonn".

Letra

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

I believe that when writin'

A wish you expressed

As to how the fine ladies

In London were dressed

Well 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 it 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 sip

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

You remember young Diddy McClaren, of course

Well 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

And 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