I am a pure-bred billy goat, I'd never deny who I am
I was fed on good grass and the sweetest of oats in fields near the River Bann
But glory, me boys, does await me, when I shuffle off my oul' coil
To send out a beat to good music so sweet, The Blackbird, The Oul' Plains of Boyle
Hooray me boys hooray, just rip the oul' skin off my bones
And the sun it will shine in the harvest time, when I am a bodhran drum

The life of a billy-goat's pleasant, when reared on good thistles and sward
The odd little sniff at a nanny, no billy could ever be bored
But when the grim reaper he beckons, we follow with no looking back
For the love of good music we martyrs will die for the ceol agus craic
Hooray me boys hooray, just rip the oul' skin off my bones
And the sun it will shine in the harvest time, when I am a bodhran drum

The oul' farmer's face it was haggard, he looked me right straight in the eye
Says he, me boul' bill it's me duty to kill and yours not to question but die
Says I me boul' farmer don't worry, I'm ready to meet my sad fate
A hullabaloo and a jolly tattoo on my hide soon the drummers will bate
Hooray me boys hooray, just rip the oul' skin off my bones
And the sun it will shine in the harvest time, when I am a bodhran drum

The human folk talk of St Peter, who'll meet them at Heaven's Pearl Gates
But billy goats talk of the beater and dream of our hides getting' bate
To tunes like The Kid On The Mountain, The Kesh and the Oranmore Bucks
In death we're more useful than living; for dying we don't give an ex-bleat-ive deleted
Hooray me boys hooray, just rip the oul' skin off my bones
And the sun it will shine in the harvest time, when I am a bodhran drum