Don’t farm the mussels alive alive oh Don’t farm the mussels alive alive oh Don’t farm our mussels alive alive oh In Kinsale’s fair city Where the harbour’s so pretty I first set my eyes on sweet Castlepark Beach As she wheeled her wheelbarrow Through streets broad and narrow Crying Alive alive oh She was a fishmonger And sure t’was no wonder For were father mother before they their barrow If died of fever one could save That be end Beach! Then ghost wheels