“I’ll Tell My Ma” is a traditional Irish children’s street song that has been passed down through generations, with its origins likely dating back to the mid-19th century. Also known as “The Belle of Belfast City,” this lively, upbeat tune began as a skipping and playground rhyme for young girls in Ireland’s urban neighborhoods. The song’s call-and-response structure made it perfect for group singing while playing games, with variations of the lyrics appearing across Ireland’s different regions and later spreading to Scottish, English, and North American communities through migration. The chorus famously references “the belle of Belfast city” (though regional variations substitute different locations), while the verses playfully discuss courtship and matchmaking.
During the folk revival of the 1950s and 1960s, the song transitioned from children’s rhyme to popular folk standard, with influential recordings by The Clancy Brothers, Tommy Makem, and later by Van Morrison and The Chieftains helping to introduce it to international audiences.
Lyrics
Chorus
I’ll tell me ma, when I go home
The boys won’t leave the girls alone
Pulled me hair, stolen me comb
But that’s alright, till I go home
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast city
She is a-courting one, two, three
Please, won’t you tell me who is she?
Albert Mooney says he loves her
All the boys are fightin’ for her
Knock at the door, they’re ringin’ the bell
Say, “Hello, my true love are you well?”
Out she comes white as snow
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Ol’ Jenny Murray says she’ll die
If she doesn’t get the fellow with the roving eye
(Chorus)
Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come travelin’ through the sky
She’s as sweet as apple pie
She’ll get her own right by and by
When she gets a lad of her own
She won’t tell her ma when she gets home
Let them all come as they will
It’s Albert Mooney she loves still
(Chorus)
Albert Mooney says he loves her
All the boys are fightin’ for her
Knock at the door, they’re ringin’ the bell
Say, “Hello, me true love are you well?”
Out she comes white as snow
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Ol’ Jenny Murray says she’ll die
If she doesn’t get the fellow with the roving eye
(Chorus)
Leave a reply