My transcription, with a few gaps:


THEY WOULDN'T DO IT NOW
As sung by Larry Cunningham on "At His Best" (2005)

I was born in sweet Killarney one day when I was young,
And that's the very reason why the blarney's on me tongue.

Oh, the night was cold and stormy and the rain came pourin' down,
And the old nurse Judy Charney(?) she lived a long way out o' town.

So me father got th'old donkey out and off went with a crack,
And with Judy up behind him, sure he very soon came back.

I was such a nice ...(?); that the neighbors did allow.
They brought the girls to kiss me; they'd never do it now.

At the age of ten months ...(?), ah, the like you never could find.
Me hair was black and glassy and it hung in curls behind.

The girls used to throw me up and catch me like a ball.
I wouldn't let them do it now for fear they'd let me fall.

Ah, but when I started teethin', sure I used to bawl away.
The girls would lift me in their arms and this to me would say:

"Our little tootsie-wootsie, an' does your tootsin(?) ache?"
I used to look into their face because I couldn't speak.

So they fed me with a bottle in the most peculiar way:
They rammed it down me throttle an' I had to drink away.

They rocked me in a cradle until I kicked up a row.
They'd take me into the bed with them; they'd never chance it now.

And when the summertime did come an' bathin' did begin,
The girls put on those bathin' suits an' with them dare ye go in.

I'd swim about upon their backs(?) with wrinkles in me brow.
I was but a baby then; they'd never do it now.