A-live, alive-o! A-live, a-live-o!
Crying "cockles and muscles, a-live, a-live-o!"

She was a fish-monger, and that was no wonder,
For so was her father and mother before.
They drove their wheel-barrows thru' streets broad and narrow,
Crying "cockles and mussels, a-live, a-live-o"

She died of the fever, and nothing could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
But her ghost drives a barrow thru' streets broad and narrow,
Crying "cockles and mussels, a-live, a-live-o"

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