Going to Mass last Sunday, my love she passed me by
I knew her mind was altered by the roving of her eye
I knew her mind was altered to a lad of higher degree
For it’s Molly, lovely Molly, your looks have wounded me.

Oh! Woe unto you Molly, you have proved to me unkind
For you plucked the bonny briar and left the sweet red rose behind
But the briar it will wither, and the day it will come soon
When the lovely blushing red rose will flourish and will bloom.

Now courting is a pleasure between my love and I
And it’s down in yonder valley I will meet her by and by
It’s down in yonder valley she is my heart’s delight
And it’s with you lovely Molly I could spend till the broad daylight.

I then took out a bottle and I held it in my hand
Saying raise your glass dear Molly our friendship is at an end
Saying raise your glass dear Molly, drink the bottle dry to me
For there are ten guineas wagered that married we ne’er shall be.

Now, never trust a wee girl, with a dark and roving eye
Just court her and embrace her never tell her the reason why.
Just court her and embrace her till you cause her heart to yield
For a faint hearted soldier never won on a battle field.

Farewell to Ballymoney, and County Antrim too
Likewise to lovely Molly, I bid you a fond adieu
America lies far away, across the ocean blue
I am bound for there dear Molly, so again I bid adieu.