We were sitting on the wall upon a Sunday
To watch the girls go by,
And thinking we'd be married to one, one day,
When Kate Glynn caught our eye.
Oh, man, she had the makin's of an angel,
And it made one boy swear,
That there's not one girl in the wide, wide world,
Like the girl from the county Clare...

Now, every man had got the finest plan.
You ever see now, barrin' me now,
Every day there's one of them would say
That she'll agree now, you'll see now.
All night they'd fight as to which of them was right,
In the color of her eyes and hair,
But not one word, from me was ever heard,
About the darlin' girl from Clare....

Says Fagan, "'Tis the father I'll be pleasin'.
I'll tell him of the land I've tilled.
I'll tell him of the cattle I have greasin',
And the house I mean to build,
And when he sees the arable and pasture,
And the fat stock feedin' there,
And the hens and the chickens, you may go to the dickens,
For the girl from the county Clare....

I never said a single word about her,
But I met the girl that day.
I told her I could never live without her,
And what has she to say?
She said that I might go and see her father.
I met him then and there,
And in less than an hour, we were fightin' for the dower,
Of the darlin' girl from Clare....