There once was a troop, of Irish Dragoons,
Come marching down through Fyve-io.
And the Captain fell in love, with a very bonny la**,
As we marched through the bonny streets of Fyve-io
The Captain's name was Ned, he was the pride of the Regiment,
The bonniest lad in all of the Army-o.
A very handsome sight, he was the ladies' own delight!
As we marched though the bonny streets of Fyve-io.
Well, I'll give you ribbons, love, and I'll give you rings,
I'll give you a necklace of amber-o,
If you'll come on down the stair, and comb back your yellow hair,
And we'll march through the bonny streets of Fyve-io.
There's many a bonny la**, in the town of Achterla**,
Aye, there's many a bonny la**ie in the Geary-o,
There's many a bonny jean, in the streets of Aberdeen!
But the flow'r of them all lives in Fyve-io.
"Mount up!" the Colonel cried, "and it's o'er the bray we'll ride,
Down from the Hielans to Fenario."
"Well, it's tarry another day," we heard our Captain say,
As we marched through the bonny streets of Fyve-io.
The Colonel in his rage, drew his pistol and took aim,
At the bonniest lad in all of the army-o.
He fired a deadly ball, and our Captain, he did fall,
As we marched through the bonny streets of Fyve-io.
It was lang ere we left, the town of Achterla**,
We had our young Captain to carry-o.
And lang ere we came in to bonny Aberdeen,
That we had our young Captain there to bury-o.
There once was a troop, of Irish Dragoons,
Come marchin' down through Fyve-io,
And the Captain fell in love, with a very bonny la**,
As we marched through the bonny streets of Fyve-io.