Bodhrán Song, The
Sheet Music (and more information about this song)
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 handy, dandy 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 will never see a Fleadh,
Or indulge in foreign travel as a bodhrán.
Well a cat's lives they are nine, but they are not very fine,
And a dog has much material to growl on,
But it's when you are a goat, you can strike a merry note,
That's provided you have first become 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, as 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.
Comp: Brian O'Rourke
Discography: Brian O'Rourke
Colm O'Donnell
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