I am a bold Irishman, Murphy's me name
I'm known as a piper and fiddler of fame
Tin whistlin's me forte, on the flute I'm the same
At the squeeze-box there's none can me equal
I whistle for breakfast, and pipe for me tea
I play me ould flute twenty-five hours a day
And I can't understand why so many folk say
I'm champion at driving them crazy

Well, I once had a sweetheart, so fair and divine
She said that she loved me, I thought she was mine
She'd the shape of a fiddle and her hair was so fine
For bowstrings you'd sure find no better
She told me forever her love would endure
She asked me to kiss her, me answer was, " Sure
And why not? It's good practice for my embouchure!"
I'm champion at driving them crazy.

Well, this lass was persistent and her efforts soon led
To a room in a pub with a big double bed
And she said," Do you know it is time we were wed? "
I said, " Is that a reel or a hornpipe? "
Well I took off my clothes and down on the bed sat
Says she, " Won't your whistle go longer than that?"
I said, "What takes your fancy, is it F or B-flat? "
I'm champion at driving them crazy.

Well, a little while after, she says to me, "Pat
I think that your whistling is making me fat."
And, a few months being over, she up and begat
A wee fellow, the image of me
Well, at three weeks of age he could lilt a few tunes
At a month he was battering on bodhran and bones
And now he's the master of chanter and drones
He'll be champion at driving them crazy

Well, me wife she soon left us, and all in due course
For "musical cruelty" she got her divorce
And despite all our vows of "for better or worse,"
I'm left all alone with the baby
Well, he's Ireland's best piper by quite a long chalk
His fiddling's unequaled from Sligo to Cork
And, as soon as he learns how to walk and to talk
He'll be champion at driving them crazy