The Maid Of Culmore - Gerry Rafferty

From sweet Londonderry, oh, to fair London town

There is no better harbour anywhere to be found

Where the children each evening are round the seashore

And the joybells are ringing for the maids of Culmore

The first time I saw my love she passed me by

And the next time I saw her she bade me goodbye

And the third time I saw her she grieved my heart sore

And she sailed down Lough Foyle and away from Culmore

To the north parts of America I will go my love see

Where I will know no one, oh, or no one knows me

And it’s if I don’t find her I’ll return back no more

Like an exile I will wander from the maid of Culmore