Collection of Irish Song Lyrics
Old Maid in a Garrett
I have often heard it said from me father and me mother
That the going to a weddin' is the making of another
Well, if this be true, I will go without a biddin'
O kind providence, won't you send me to a wedding
And its O dear me, how would it be,
if I die an old maid in a garret
Well, there's my sister Jean, she's not handsome or good looking
Barely sixteen and she had a fella courtin'
Now she's twenty-four with a son and a daughter
Here am I at forty-five and I've never had an offer
I can cook and I can sew and I can keep the house right tidy
Rise up in the morning and get the breakfast ready
There's nothing in this wide world would make me half so cheery
As a wee fat manny who would call me his own deary
So come landsman or come kinsman, come tinker or come tailor
Come fiddler or come dancer, come ploughboy or come sailor
Come rich man, come poor man, come fool or come witty
Come any man at all that will marry me for pity
Well now I'm away home 'cause there's nobody heeding
There's nobody heedin' to poor old Annie's pleadin'
I'll go away to my own wee bit garret
If I can't get a man, then I'll surely get a parrot