I my love was a red, red rose growing in yon fair And I to be the gardener, of her I would take care not a month throughout the year, that my love I'd renew I'd garnish with flowers fine, Sweet William, Thyme and Rue
I wish I was a butterfly, I'd light on my love's breast And if I was blue cuckoo, I'd sing my love to rest And if I was a nightingale, I'd sing the clear I'd sit and sing with you, Molly, for once loved you dear
I wish I was in Dublin town and seated on the grass my right hand, a jug of punch, and on my a lass I'd call for liquor freely and I'd pay before I'd go I'd roll my Molly in my arms, let wind blow high or low