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Bodhrans And Banjos
Lyrics by Ian McCalman

'Admitting to playing the bodhran and the banjo can sadly limit your social life'

I’ll have to leave this session
‘cos my voice and I have parted
I’ve murdered songs all afternoon
and half-way through the night
My brain was put to bed before
the singing really started
I’ll never leave before the morning light
I can’t get home without some help
and she left hours before
So I will concentrate and try to walk towards the door
The singing rises once again
they need another voice and then
Bodhrans and banjos start to play

Well I tried to phone a taxi
but I know it’s never coming
And I don’t know where I live
it’s somewhere near the town
The singing’s getting louder
but the drums are getting closer and
'Auld Lang Syne' is losing ground
A deliverance of banjos joins the
squad-a-rons of bod-ha-rons
Irish jigs and reels get underway
The drums are on the Richter scale,
the banjos never seem to fail
Riverdance on speed has won the day

The banjos are still twanging
and the bodhrans are still banging
As the singers are defeated
by the pigskins and the goat
A pitiful disaster, as the tunes get even faster
And the tearful music-lovers get their coats
Another party’s over and I’ve nothing more to give
I remember why I came here, this is where I live
I’ll have another party but I’ve got to make it clear
No bodhrans and banjos invited next year

Bodhrans and banjos, here we go again
An instrumental nightmare that never seems to end
There’s singing in the kitchen
and there’s fiddling in the hall
Bodhrans and banjos massacre them all

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