I have often heard it said from me father and me mother That the going to a weddin’ is the making of another Well, if this be true, I will go without a biddin’ O kind providence, won’t you send me to a wedding And its O dear me, how would it be, if I die an old maid in a garret Well, there’s my sister Jean, she’s not handsome or good looking Barely sixteen and she had a fella courtin’ Now she’s twenty-four with a son and a daughter Here am I at forty-five and I’ve never had an offer I can cook and I can sew and I can keep the house right tidy Rise up in the morning and get the breakfast ready There’s nothing in this wide world would make me half so cheery As a wee fat manny who would call me his own deary So come landsman or come kinsman, come tinker or come tailor Come fiddler or come dancer, come ploughboy or come sailor Come rich man, come poor man, come fool or come witty Come any man at all that will marry me for pity Well now I’m away home ’cause there’s nobody heeding There’s nobody heedin’ to poor old Annie’s pleadin’ I’ll go away to my own wee bit garret If I can’t get a man, then I’ll surely get a parrot