at the hour of twelve at night
I shed a spive at a Spanish lady
washing her feet in the candlelight
over a fire of ember coal
In all my life I never did see a mate
Whack for the tour, tour lady
Whack for the tour, tour lady
Whack for the tour, tour lady
Whack for the tour, tour lady
As I went back through Dublin city
At the hour of half past eight
A Spanish lady brushing her hair
First she brushed it, then she tossed it,
in her lap was a silver comb
And all my life I never did see a maid
Whack for the Tura Tura Lady
Whack for the Tura Tur a Lady,
Whack for the Tura Tura Lady
As I went back through Dublin city,
Who should I spy but a Spanish lady,
catching a moth in a golden net?
First she saw me, then she fled me,
lifting her petticoat over her knees.
All my life I never did see a maid
so shy as a Spanish lady.
Whack for the toot -root -toot -roo -lay
Whack for the toot -root -toot -roo -lay
Well, I've wandered north and
Up and around the Gloucester Dime
In the bathroom upper Tenney's house
Old age has laid a hand on me
Cold as a fire of ashen coal
In all my life I never did see a maid
Wack for the Tura Tur a Laddie,
Wack for the Tura Tura Lady,
Wack for the Tura Tura Laddie,
Wack for the Tura Tura Lady,
Wack for the Tura Tura Lady,
Wack for the Tura Tura Lady,
Wack for the Tura Tura Lady,
Wack for the Tura Tura Lady,
Wack for the Tura Tura Lady,
Wack for the Tura Tura Lady,
Wack for the Tura Tura Lady,
Wack for Mother, do right, do right
