Lily strolls saucily down the street
with slow embarrassed pleasure;
so young and alive in her new cotton dress,
the young lads watch her at their leisure.
Fairview, the Strand, Newcomen Bridge,
hear the trams come clanging down;
Amiens Street rises right ahead,
where trains rattle in to Dublin town.
O Lily, Lily, me Dublin darlin'
Lily, Lily bulero!
Talbot Street, shadow of the rail bridge,
alive with a load of little shops;
the cries and chants of the old street traders,
the roar of this city never stops.
Walk ahead, Lily dear, to Nelson's Pillar,
one-handled hero in a silly stone hat;
you'll meet your young man at a smart new cake shop,
but you're not quite sure what will follow from that.
O Lily, Lily, me Dublin darlin'
Lily, Lily bulero!
Sure, I don't even know if he's keen on me,
says Lily, agiggle with girlfriends;
he's never even tried to hold my hand,
sweet Lily, Lily bulero!
Now gaily she glides along the Strand,
as greyly the day slides into night;
the young chap that day, he was keen all right,
begorrah, bedad, and begum ...
now he's me Dad, and Lily's me Mum!
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(true story !)
