Way up in the north in old Tyrone there's a pretty little girl I call my own She's the sweetest rose Ireland's ever grown And sure as the moon and stars above I'm falling head over heals in love With a pretty little girl from Omagh, in the county of Tyrone
There's cute little girls in old Strabane, they're just in pretty in Monaghan This to every roving eye is known but I guess that I'd be out of bounds 'Cos there between the northern towns There's a pretty little girl from Omagh, in the county of Tyrone
She wears my ring and tells her friends she's going to marry me And best of all she tells them all she's happy as can be, oh lucky me Well I don't know what she's done to me, there's nothing else my eyes can see But my pretty little girl from Omagh, in the county of Tyrone
T'was down in the south in old Tramore, I recall the yellow dress she wore She strolled along the shore there all alone But I guess it was my lucky day when she came there on holiday My pretty little girl from Omagh, in the county of Tyrone
She wears my ring and tells her friends she's going to marry me And best of all she tells them all she's happy as can be, oh lucky me Well I don't know what she's done to me, there's nothing else my eyes can see But the pretty little girl from Omagh, in the county of Tyrone My pretty little girl from Omagh, in the county of Tyrone
