Concertina

You’ll think I’m crazy,
You’ll think I’m strange,
When I try to explain how I feel.
But you still cannot play
After all of these years.
Hard to believe it.
But all you can play is a hornpipe or two.
And maybe a snatch of a jig.
The lads are all fed up with you.

How could you let it happen?
Why did you choose?
To spend half your life playing reels?
Sitting in on our sessions, ruining tune after tune.
It’s just not music
Squeezing away without much of a clue
And no sense of rhythm at all.
I can’t bear to listen, thank you.

Don’t play me your concertina.
The truth is you never practised.
All through the winter
You skipped the lessons,
Do us a favour
Now skip the sessions.

And as for fortune and as for fame
I don’t think they will trouble you.
Listen to the musicians,
You are wrecking their heads.
You cause confusion.
They’re becoming abusive; they’re threatening to leave
If you don’t put your squeeze box away.
I implore you; please listen to me.

Don’t play me your concertina,
The one that your uncle left you.
I just can’t listen
‘Cept from a distance.
Too many bad days
You need assistance.

Have I said too much?
There’s nothing more I can say to get through to you.
But all you have to do, is ask the lads, to know
That every word is true.

Chorus: