Mother oh Mother

Mother oh Mother

Mother of mine

Come down to dinner

Where we will dine

Laid on a table

Rivers of beef

Boggy potatoes

Cabbage fine leaf

Mother oh mother

Mother of mine

Let’s sit down to dinner

Everything’s fine

Silver utensils

Plates of pure gold

Napkins so white

Lovely to hold

Mother oh mother

Mother of mine

You don’t want your dinner

You’re dead in your bed

But everything’s fine

You’ve died of a fever

So you’re not in a mood

Mother oh mother

Mother of mine

The dinner is cold

It will go in your grave

Wrapped in a napkin

And tied up with gold

You can eat it tomorrow

So do as you’re told