Spanish Lady - Firkin

As I went down to Dublin City

At the hour of twelve at night,

Who should I see but a Spanish lady

Washing her feet by candle light.

First she washed them, then she dried them

O’er a fire of amber coal,

In all my life I ne’er did see

A maid so sweet about the sole.

Whack for the toora loora laddy,

Whack for the toora loora lay.

Whack for the toora loora laddy,

Whack for the toora loora lay.

As I went back through Dublin city

As the sun began to set,

Who should I spy but the Spanish lady

Catching a moth in a golden net.

When she saw me then she fled me,

Lifting her petticoat o’er her knee,

In all my life I ne’er did see

A maid so shy as the Spanish lady.

I’ve wandered north and I’ve wandered south,

Through Stonybatter and Patrick’s Close,

Up and around the Glouster diamond

And back by Napper Tandy’s house.

Old age has her hand laid on me,

Cold as a fire of ashy coals,

But in all my life I ne’er did see,

A maid so sweet as the Spanish lady.