Blow me boys I'm knocking on sixty I'm very spry
Thee ‘usn't find a man who's tried his luck more times than I
For years I've looked around for a woman with a few spare pound
Though I can't find her I don't care and I'll tell thee why
Chorus:
Oh, thee casn't kill cooch, t'will never die
Oh, thee casn't kill cooch, no matter just how much we's try
When things go wrong boys, don't cuss nor fret
For thee casn't kill cooch, and I'll get there yet
Once I were courtin' a pretty little girl up on Harptree Hill
Not just because her father had a farm and a cider mill
Till one day he said "John, now's time the'es hurry on
For the'es love that little brown jug, better than the'es love our Jill"
Then I were courtin' a pretty little widow down in Congresbury
Sunday afternoon she'd ask I round to tea
Till one day he said "Dear, oh you'd better get out of here"
For I know what yer after, and thee bissn't 'aving 'ee"
Then there were Janey from Upton Chayney, what a girl were she
Gurt fat legs like a couple of branches on a chestnut tree
But she were just the same, she said "I know thee game
Bees go after honey but I don't go for thee"
So me boys, me story's over and it's very true
The sun is shining and thee's gotta make hay when the sun shines through
For dogs will have their day and don't 'ee all forget
While there's life there's hoping and there's life in the old dog yet.