Now I've often heard it said from my father and my mother
That going to a wedding was the makings of another
Well, if this be so, then I'll go without a biddance
Oh kind providence, won't you send me to a wedding

Chorus:
And it's oh, dear me, how would it be
If I died an old maid in the garrett?

Well, now there's my sister Jean, she's not handsome or good-looking
Scarcely fifteen and a fellow she was courting
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, I can keep the house right tidy
And wake up in the morning to get the breakfast ready
There's nothing in this wide world would make me half so cheery
As a wee, fat man who would call me his own deary

So come landsman or come kingsman, come tinker or come tailor
Come fiddler or come dancer, come ploughboy or come sailor
Come rich man, come poor man, come bore or come witty
Come any man at all who will marry me for pity

Well, now I the way home, for nobody's heeding
Oh, nobody's heeding to poor Annie's bleeding
So, I the way home to my own pity garret
If I can't have a man, then I'll have to get a parrot