Molly Malone Redux

A peddler from Dublin was she,
And there never was fairer to see.
As she pushed her wheelbarrow
Through streets broad and narrow,
Any man who had eyes would agree.

She peddled her fish at the fair
She did what she did with a flair
Her parents before her
Did strongly implore her
To sell fish and fend off despair

You don’t hold despair off for long
Too many things simply go wrong.
As her parents, they cried,
She took fever and died,
But she lives on forever in song.