Is that tall, handsome lads doon't need 'em a wife
'cause there's gerls hangin' on 'em and gerls hangin' aft
a flirtin' and singin' and makin' 'em laugh,
Rubbin' dem poor handsome feet in de evenin'
Gigglin' and blushin' -- a wee bit o' teasin'.
Nooow these handsome young lads, thar the envy of all,
All the OOLD Irish men, plain and not tall
who took 'demselves home the ferst beauty who smiled
wit' clear Irish eyes that left 'em beguiled.
"Oooo if I'd ooonly stee'd single," says the old Irish man,
"these gerls o' today, theey'd be kissin' me hand."
"Hmmpf!" says de wife, "Ya got blarney for brains
and noo shamrock to ward off yer age or yer pains.
Sure n' be-goren, ya doon't want dat life --
You'd wake some far mornin' allooone wit' no wife!"
So he nods and he gooes back to drinkin' his ale,
His thoughts off a wanderin' who knoows where the hell...
Noo meself, I don't envy the handsome young lad --
nope ... it's 'dem gerls who be with 'im I envy instead!