I rewrote the song for the Rose of Tralee.

Apparently, the Roses can be men in frocks and transgenders now. In the spirit of this development I think the lyrics of the much loved tune should be updated

The pale moon was rising above the green mountain,

The sun was declining beneath the blue sea;

When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain,

That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee.

Zee was lovely and fair as the hormonal injections,

Yet 'twas not Zir beauty alone that won me;

Oh no, 'twas the estrogen patches',

That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.

The cool shades of evening as the dysmorphic disorder was spreading

And Mary with a full erection sat listening to me;

The moon through the valley, her schizophrenia shining

When I won the corrective surgery of the Rose of Tralee.

She/her was lovely and fair as the gender reassignment,

Yet 'twas not her size 14 high heels alone that won me;

Oh no, 'twas the truth in her large hands ever dawning,

That made me buy male tampons for Mary, the Transgender Rose of Tralee.