As I came down through Dublin city at the hour of twelve at night Who shall describe a Spanish lady washing her feet by candlelight? First she washed them, then she dried them, o'er a fire of angry coal In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so neat about the soul Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee As I came back through Dublin city at the hour of half past eight Who shall describe a Spanish lady brushing her hair in the hope? First she brushed it, then she tossed it, on her lap was a silver comb In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so fair since I did roam Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee As I came back through Dublin city as the sun began to set Who shall I spy but a Spanish lady catching a moth in a golden net? When she saw me then she pulled at me, lifting a padded coat over her knee In all my life I ne'er did see a maid so fair as a Spanish lady Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee I've wandered north and I've wandered south Through Stony Bath or Annapatrick's Cross Up and around by the Gloucester Dine Up and back by Napertine's House Old age has laid her arm on me Cold as a fire, old as she could But where is the lovely Spanish lady neat and sweet about the soul? Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee Whack for the tu-ra-lu-ra-la-dee