THE NAUGHTY BUACHAL

Shaun, avic, you’re a naughty boy you’ve been making an awful noise,

I suppose you’ve been up to your usual tricks, destroying your lovely toys.

You’ve been and ruined your little toy gun, Oh, Shaun, what an awful shame,

And it never will be the same.

Dear Auntie Elizabeth gave you a harp and told you a fairy tale

She said this harp has once belonged to the terrible Clan Na Gael

“So Shaun”, says she, “Be careful, or as careful as you can

If not, beware of Finn Mc Cool, the Irish bogey man.”

But you wouldn’t believe in fairies, Shaun, or even in bogey men

And the words of Auntie Elizabeth were spoken to you in vain

You smashed the strings when the harp was mute to the tunes you would have it play

So the fairies came out at Easter time and have taken your harp away.

Little toy soldiers you had, avic, yellow and brown and black

But you seem to be losing them mighty quick and you never will get them back

If you had believed in the fairies, Shaun, it might have repaid you well

But you wouldn’t believe in the Devil, Shaun, though you’ve caused quite a bit of Hell.

Oh, nasty boy, you’re an outcast now detested by other boys

You ought to be whipped like a bigger Shaun,

For destroying your costly toys

You soon will be old and decrepit, Shaun, and your friends will be mighty few

And the fairies you wouldn’t believe in will have a jolly good laugh at you.