We may tramp the earth for all that we're worth,
But what odds where you and I go?
We shall never meet a spot so sweet
As the beautiful City of Sligo.
  Oh, sure she's a Queen in purple and green,
  As she shimmers and glimmers her gardens between;
  And away to Lough Lene the like isn't seen
  Of her river a-quiver with shadow and sheen,
  The beautiful City of Sligo.

Though bustle and noise are some folks' joys,
Your London just gives me ver-ti-go,
You can hear yourself talk when out you walk
Thro' the beautiful City of Sligo.
  Oh, sure she's a Queen…

As an artist in stones a genius was Jones,
Whom so queerly they christened In-i-go,
But he hasn't the skill to carve a Grass Hill
For the beautiful City of Sligo.
  Oh, sure she's a Queen…

Then for powder and puff and cosmetical stuff,
Dear girls to Dame Fashion, ah! why go?
When Dame Nature supplies for tresses and eyes 
Such superior dyes down in Sligo.
  Oh, sure she's a Queen…