Bodhran Song

Bodhran Song (The)
Author: Brian ORourke
Copyright: MOC Music
Oh I am a year old kid I’m worth scarcely fifteen quid.
I’m the kind of beast you might well look down on
But my value will increase At the time of my decease
For when I grow up I want to be a bodhrán.

If you kill me for my meat You won’t find me very sweet.
Your palate I’m afraid I’ll soon turn sour on.
Ah but if you do me in For the sake of my thick skin
You’ll find I make a tasty little bodhrán.

Now my parents Bill and Nan, They do not approve my plan
To become a yoke for every yob to pound on
Ah but I would sooner scamper With a bang than with a whimper And achieve reincarnation as a bodhrán.

I look forward to the day When I leave off eating hay
And become a drum to entertain a crowd on
And I’ll make my presence felt With each well-delivered belt
As a fully qualified and licensed bodhrán.

And ’tis when I’m killed and cured My career will be assured
I’ll be a skin you’ll see no scum nor scour on
But with studs around my rim I’ll be sound in wind and limb
And I’ll make a dandy, handy little bodhrán.

Oh my heart with joy expands When I dream of far-off lands
And consider all the streets that I will sound on
And I pity my poor ma Who has never seen a Fleadh
Or indulged in foreign travel as a bodhrán.

For a hornpipe or a reel A dead donkey has no feel
Or a horse or cow or sheep that has its shroud on
And you can’t join in a jig If you’re a former grade
A pig But you can wallop out the lot if you’re a bodhrán.

So if e’er you’re feeling low To a session you should go
And bring me there to exercise an hour on.
You can strike a mighty thump On my belly, back or rump
But I thank you if you’d wait till I’m a bodhrán.

When I dedicate my hide, I’ll enhance the family pride
And tradition is a thing I won’t fall down on
For I’ll bear a few young bucks Who’ll inherit my good looks
And be proud to know their old one is a bodhrán.

And I don’t think I’ll much mind When I’ve left himself behind
For the critter can no longer turn the power on
For with a celtic ink design Tattooed on my behind
I can be a very sexy little bodhrán

Now I think you’ve had enough Of this rubbishy old guff
So I’ll put a sudden end to my wee amhrán
And quite soon my bloody bleat
Will become a steady beat
When I start my new existence as a bodhrán.


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