I wrote a parody myself, after one of our local fiddlers died: Tam Flanagan was a bit of a local legend, and had lost both legs having 2 "tin legs" prosthetic replacements: various stories bout hen his legs disappeared fter a few drams and pints! I did send the lyrics to John Conolly, and he was very generous in approving their use which was anyway just among friends and not for any commercial purpose.

Fiddlers' Green

(Special version for Tam Flanagan, RIP 11.08.03.)   
Song based on "Fiddlers' Green" by John Conolly.

As I walked through the West Port one wet afternoon
The "Black Bitch" was full and there's mony a fine tune,
I heard there a fiddler plying his bow,
"By the way, won't be long now till I have tae go"

Chorus
Dress me up in my old tartan waistcoat,
No more at the "Bitch" I'll be seen,
Just tell my old friends my life's reaching its end,
And I'll see you some day on Fiddlers' Green.

Now Fiddlers' Green is a place I've heard tell
Where fiddlers go if they've played their tunes well,
Where ideas inspiring flow free to your mind,
And fine melodies are written of every kind.
Chorus

When Tam got tae fifty, the pints they flowed free,
We sang him "Freewheeling", there was a tear in his e'e,
He told us of stories and glories he'd known,
And then he played us three tunes of his own.
Chorus

"By the way" says oor Tam, "That's yin o' my ain",
He challenged us all tae play it again,
Wi' lots of odd rhythms and changes of key,
Not much chance of a sang frae you or frae me.
Chorus

So his fiddle lies still in the old battered case,
As Tam has now gone tae his last resting place,
His case told the miles and the places he'd gone,
And his tunes for the fiddler will sure linger on.
Chorus