Is your mother in, Molly Malone?

Young Michael McGee loved Miss Molly Malone,
And longed for the time when he'd call her his own;
All sorts of excuses to see her he'd make,
As he hung 'round the house every day.
One evening he tapped at the door - and his love
Sweet Molly looked out from the window above,
Said she, "Go away! Sure in trouble I'll get!"
But he answered, "I'll not go away!"

"Is your mother in, Molly Malone?"
Molly sighed, "She's out!"
"Is your father in, Molly Malone?"
Molly cried, "He's out!"
"Then can I come in by the fireside,
And sit there along with you?"
But she said with a smile, "Oh you'll wait for a while,
For the fire's out, too!"

When an Irishman worships a pair of bright eyes,
To get at them, sure, he'll tell all sorts of lies!
"A faint heart it never won fair lady yet,"
And that old saying young Michael knew.
So he stood there and argued for quite a long while,
And Molly said, "Please go away with your guile!"
"Och! Why do you worry me so?" he replied,
"It's your mother I'm wantin', not you!"

Young Michael looked up, as he scratched his 'old poll,' 
And said, "Troth I'm in trouble, I am, 'pon my soul!
If your parents are out now, and I can't come in,
By the piper, sure, I'm out as well!
For I've recently purchased a neat golden ring,
For your left hand's third finger it's just the right thing!"
Said Molly, "Sure, tho' they're all out, I'm at home —
So you needn't stand down there and yell —