Now if all the women in the town were bundled up together
The girl I love would beat them all in every kind of weather
She doesn't wash the powder off, because she does not wear it
Her face and figure are all her own, it's true for I declare

That she's a fine big, strong lump of an agricultural Irish girl
She never paints nor powders and her figure is all her own
But she can hit that hard you'd think it was a kick of a mule you'd got
The full of your arms of Irish love is Mary Ann Malone

Now she's only seventeen last grass, and still improving greatly
I wonder what she will be like when her bones have set complately
You'd think your hand was in a vice the moment that she shakes it
And if there's any gin around it's Mary Ann that takes it

For she's a fine big, strong lump of an agricultural Irish girl
She never paints nor powders and her figure is all her own
But she can hit that hard you'd think it was a kick of a mule you'd got
The full of your arms of Irish love is Mary Ann Malone.

