Well, if you've got a wing-o,
Take her up to Ring-o
Where the waxies sing-o all the day;
When you've had your fill of porter,
And you can't go any further
Give your man the order: "Back to the Quay!"
But first go up to Monto, Monto, Monto
First go up to Monto, lang-a- roo,
To you!

Oh you heard of butcher Gloucester,
The dirty old impostor
Took a mot and lost her up in the Furry Glen.
He first put on his bowler
Then he buttoned up his trouser,
Then he whistled for his prowler and he says, "My man!"
Take me up to Monto, Monto, Monto
Take me up to Monto, lang-a- roo,
To you!

And when the Tsar of Russia
And the King of Prussia
Landed in the Phoenix Park in a big balloon,
They asked the police band
To play "The Wearin' of the Green"
But the buggers in the depot didn't know the tune.
So they both went up to Monto, Monto, Monto
Both went up to Monto, lang-a- roo,
To you!

You see the Dublin Fusiliers,
The dirty old bamboozlers,
They went and got the childer, one, two, three.
Marching from the Linen Hall
There's one for every cannonball,
And Vick's going to send them all, o'er the sea.
But first go up to Monto, Monto, Monto
First go up to Monto, lang-a- roo,
To you!

The Queen she came to call on us,
She wanted to see all of us
I'm glad she didn't fall on us, she's eighteen stone.
"Mister Me Lord Mayor," says she,
"Is this all you've got to show me?"
"Why, no ma'am there's some more to see, Póg mo thóin!"
And he took her up Monto, Monto,
He took her up to Monto, lang-a- roo,
To you !