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THE SPANISH LADY (Traditional) The Dubliners As I came up through Dublin City At the hour of twelve at night Who should I spy but a Spanish lady Washing her feet by candlelight First she washed them, then she dried them Over a fire of angry coal In all my life I ne'er did see A maid so sweet about the sole Whack for ma toora loora laddy Whack for ma toora loora lay Whack for ma toora loora laddy Whack for ma toora loora lay As I came up through Dublin City At the hour of half-past-eight Who should I spy but a Spanish lady Brushing her hair by broad daylight First she brushed it, then she tossed it On her lap was a silver comb In all my life I ne'er did see A maid so fair as I did roam As I came up through Dublin City As the sun was near to set Who should I spy but a Spanish lady Catching a moth in a golden net When she saw me, then she fled me Hitching her petticoat o'er her knee In all my life I ne'er did see A maid so blithe as the Spanish lady I wandered north and I wandered south Through Stonybatter and Patrick's Close Up and around by the Gloucester Diamond Back through Napper Tandy's house Old age has laid her hand on me Cold as a fire of ashen coal But where, oh where is the Spanish lady Neat and sweet about the sole?

    


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