The Worst Irish Band in the World

Oh my name it is Darryl and me story I'll relate,
How I gave up me day job as a plumber's mate's mate,
And it's many a night you'll find me down at McGinty's Bar
With a phoney Irish accent and a badly tuned guitar,
Like Clark Kent into Superman I'll effortlessly change,
And as Seamus and the Scumbags you'll see us on the stage.

From Land's End up to John O'Groats, Rosslare to Skibbereen
We're probably the worst Irish band you've ever seen,
But we listen to the punters who say "give it to us, please,
Fast and loud and in yer face and in a bunch of keys",
And we know that they'll come back for more to hear the same
old sh**e
It sure to hell beats working at three hundred quid a night

(it's in D)

All you need's a bit of nerve and chords one, two and three
And just keep on smiling if you screw up totally,
The landlord's giving the thumbs up ,he thinks it's going well,
But with all the racket from the bar it's impossible to tell.
We're all completely tone deaf, the tune's completely lost,
But when you're drunk into oblivion, well, who could give a toss?

From Land's End up to John O'Groats, Rosslare to Skibbereen..

Now the amplifier's feeding back just like a dentist's drill,
And if that doesn't clear your sinuses, well, the whistle player
will,
The fiddler's paralytic, every single note is flat,
Just like someone sawing up a log while strangling a cat,
I've got me brother on the bass and e's completely naff,
He's always half a bar behind, well, you just can't get the staff!

From Land's End up to John O'Groats, Rosslare to Skibbereen..

(help! I'm a musician, get me out of here!)

Now we,ve massacred the Irish Rover and the Fields of Athenry,
Kicked Captain Farrell in the n**s and brought tears to his eyes,
We're totally shambolic, yet still they shout for more, and at half
past one we stagger through the seventeenth encore,
And when we finally grind to a halt, the suffering's still not over,
A voice from up the back yells "Can you play the Wild Rover?"

From Land's End up to John O'Groats, Rosslare to Skibbereen

(After 15 pints it sounds fine)

Well, we've gone for new technology, we've grabbed it by the
throat,
These backing tracks mean we don't have to play a bloody note,
Some pisshead staggers up to me and shakes me by the hand
He says "You're a mushical geniush, you musht be classhically
trained!"
"It takes years of practice to get this crap", I tell him "to be sure
, it's true,
And how did Daniel O'Donnell get where 'e is, because of oo 'e
knew!"

From Land's End up to John O'Groats, Rosslare to Skibbereen

(last line three times)

(Oh fine man y'are, Seamus!)