I'm reposting this St Paddy's Day greeting from
August O'Connor (bodhran) and
Nick Herbert (tin whistle).
SONG OF THE IRISH WHISTLE
with apologies to Joanie Madden
Sure, it's a holy instrument
Like everything that comes from God
You must learn to hold her reverently
Like Father Kelly's Holy Wafer
Or a patch of Irish sod.
Close your lips around her fipple
And thru her narrow airway
Blow a prayer across that tilted floor
Called "labium" when there's one of them
And "labia" when there's more.
Now the noise she makes is frightful
Like a pack o' banshees wailin'
The men are rising from their seats
And now your life depends
On the music you can coax from her
With your fancy fingerin'
Sure breathin' (and tonguin') have to be mastered
But they're just a part o' the thing
For it's how ye move yer flesh
Across the openings, laddie,
That makes the Irish whistle sing.
You may play in a grove
You may play in a pub
You may play with a maid in the spring
But playing the Irish whistle
You must mind your fingering
For it's how ye move yer flesh
Across the openings
That makes the Irish whistle sing.
Sure, it's how ye move yer flesh
Across the openings
That makes the Irish whistle sing.
