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Spanish Lady

As I came down through Dublin City

At the hour of twelve at night

Who should I see but the Spanish Lady

Washing her feet by candlelight

First she washed them, then she dried them

Over a fire of amber coal

In all my life I ne’er did see

A maid so sweet about the soul

Whack for the toora loora laddy

Whack for the toora loora lay

Whack for the toora loora laddy

Whack for the toora loora lay

As I came back through Dublin City,

At the hour of half past eight

Who should I spy but the Spanish Lady

Brushing her hair in the broad daylight

First she tossed it, then she brushed it

On her lap was a silver comb

In all my life I ne’er did see

A maid so fair since I did roam

Whack for the toora loora laddy

Whack for the toora loora lay

Whack for the toora loora laddy

Whack for the toora loora lay

As I went back through Dublin City

As the sun began to set

Who should I spy but the Spanish Lady

Catching a moth in a golden net

When she saw me, then she fled me

Lifting her petticoat over her knee

In all my life I ne’er did see

A maid so shy as the Spanish Lady

Whack for the toora loora laddy

Whack for the toora loora lay

Whack for the toora loora laddy

Whack for the toora loora lay

Whack for the toora loora laddy

Whack for the toora loora lay

Whack for the toora loora laddy

Whack for the toora loora lay

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