The Man on the Bodhrán | Text

An Lár
  1. The Man on the Bodhrán | Text -:-- / -:--

The Man on the Bodhrán


Since you`re here and I have your attention
a case of injustice I`ve got to mention
there are folks with a mission, great skills and ambitions, without recognition hard-working men keen to serve all the listeners
keeping tension that is their business
heroic defenders of rhythm and tempo
and of taste where there is no(ne)

But it`s widely believed when a session is on
that they only appear to get some free beer
and stick stubborn like thistles
some evil tongues they claim that it`s rude and completely in vain to hit a goat skin because one can`t sing or play tunes on the whistle

Good-natured types drawing harsh criticism
from ignorant people and other musicians
you have to be strong to keep playing on, if you play the bodhrán winking at girls with a short silent prayer
but the ladies don`t fall for the odd bodhrán player
their eyes rest on singers or they patiently linger
on fiddlers and box players fingers

But we know who is pushing them on,
behind the guitars being strung, pumping life into an endless song weaving patterns around every tune,
your feet they are following soon, join with the heartbeat of your own the beat of the bodhrán

And it`s widely believed when there is music around
if ever endowed they play much too loud,
drowning out all the others
malicious tongues arguing, that the utmost remarkable thing is that goats and the kin now beating their skins once were sisters and brothers

From the dawning of time we were stuck in the doldrums
our hairy forefathers invented the hand drum
no strings of no type, no bag on no pipe, only rhythmic delight for thousands of years it was truly sublime
to skilfully wield the old tipper in time
those times they have gone and the gem has become
a target to slander and scorn

But wondering what has remained
remember the pleasure you gained
to let it drive the bloodstream through your veins it`s time to change your mind
leave all the tell-tales behind
and judge him for the grooves alone
the man on the bodhrán