I been a wild folkie for many a year,
I do cut my toenails but don't cut my hair,
I drink from a tankard along with the best
And these stuck-up non folkies are an in yer arse pest

And its Aren't folkies nice folk
They play music by ear
They wear such strange clothing
Dictated by year.

I went to a folk club I used to frequent
But I sat on my tankard and I got it all bent
I looked for a hammer for fixing you see
then the beer it caught up and I went for a wee.

And its aren't folkies nice folk
They Play music by ear
They use their bent tankards
To not drink the beer.

Im told I look wierd with my beard and my socks
I shouldn't wear sandles and the kilt it just shocks
I cant give a reason for liking my style
I won't wear a suit, rather I'd run a mile

And its Arent Folkies nice Folk
You know its been said
That wearing smart clothing
Would make them reviled

Why does a label make us stand apart
My socks and my kilt dont make me a tart.
I love to go singing and have a few beers
We're harmless I say so ally all your fears.

And its aren't Folkies Nice folk
Along with the rest
Except for this one
Who's a squeezeboxing pest.

Dad daaaaa

Written entirely by ear and on the spur of the moment to the tune of the wild rover.