More than 30 years later this song still thumps me in the chest. It made me want to be on stage. It made me do stuff I never thought I would do. It made me get up offa my arse.
Really?! Gary Numan?! I didn't see that one coming. A song inspired me to get up offa my arse as well and make something of my life. Too silly to mention what it was.
I thought it was going to be Gary Barlow. :D
Och away, it was in fact Gary O'Hooley in third grade who made you stand on the desk and sing in exchange for him not twanging you in the family jewels with his collection of elastic bands. If memory serves you sang a wee ditty about a goat named Puck. He only stopped twanging you when you started crying after you wet your under-crackers!
Okay...got some reading to do. I'm just glad you sing. :)
xoxoxo bubba! like sister hope, i'm just glad you sing! xoxoo
UB; True! Now, what was your song? :¬)
Joey; Hahahahaha! I think I had taken to the stage while Gary B was still in nappies! :¬)
Chef; You know that's a lie, under-crackers were what the posh kids wore! Although I remember you and I sharing a pair on alternate days! (Sorry for stretching them in the frontal area!) :¬)
hope; Very funny guy is our Gary. He also has Aspergers. :¬)xxx
sav; Thanks missus, I also am glad I sing, it keeps me sane. :¬)xoxoxox
Aye, the frontal area, isn't that where you used to keep your satchel to stop Mary O'Connor fae stealing your Bay City Rollers lunchbox?
Well that threw me a curve ball...didn't think he would have been your inspiration at all!
Actually, the auld Chef their is quite correct. Here is the wee ditty that the little fella sang in exchange for me not twanging his goolies. I'm sure he will sing the song for everyone if he is asked nicely.I am a old jobber both foolish and airy,The green hills of Kerry I long for to see;I went back to Dingle to buy in some cattleAnd wait till I tell you what happened to me.I entered the Fair of a Saturday morning,The first thing I met was a long legged goat.Says I to meself, to commence at me dealing;Bedad, my fool hero, you're worth a pound note.So I made my approach to the owner that held him,And a bargain we stook there without much delay,He said, "If you lend me down twenty two shillingsSome advice I will give you before you'll go away;This daring old hero was reared on the mountainIn the year '64 he was pushed heal to drill,But some of his comrades were hung and transported,And now he's determined some blood for to spill."The old man was parting and I was for starting,But the words that he told me put me in dismay,The first jump he gave he near broke my left arm,So I jumped on his back and got hold of his manes,Says I, my bold ranger on your back I am now landed,And if I don't fall off you may go where you will,But he ran down the streets like a poker distractedAnd soon made his way up towards old Connor Hill.When we came into Brandon I thought it was London.I regretted my journey when I saw the sea;But he jumped in the water and swam out across her,And towards Castlegregory, he made a near way.The waves of the ocean put me in emotionThe fishes they ate all the nails in my toes,A long headed mackerel jumped up at my nostrilsAnd he nearly made away with the half of my nose. When he came to the land now he hastedly gallopedAnd towards Lough Nagaelted and then he did steer;Through Milltown, Killorglin and into KillarneyHe never cried crack till he came to Kenmare!Then at last the goat spoke! Saying "We passed our Headquarters,Were my old ancestors always have beenWe'll go back there now and we'll take up our lodgingsCollegeen-na-Gour where there's plenty of poteen.To the town of Tralee now we next took his ramblesHe was anxious I think some more sport for to see,Twas outside the town that we met some Highlanders!He opt with his hardens and tore all their toes!The Highlanders yelled and roared melee murder,Called for the pawlers to take him to jail,The whole of the port they were coming around himBut me hero he fortened and he shortened his tail!He jumped on a basin and I fell on the footwayAway went me goat and I saw him no morePerhaps he's gone back to the place he belongs toOr maybe he steered for some far distant shoreBut if he's alive he's in comfort in bandonAway in the mountains or somewere remoteBut while I'm alive I've a story worth tellingOf me rambles round Kerry and the Dingle Puck Goat"
Gary; My goolies ache just thinking of you! :¬)And there's a song I haven't sang since!
Ahh, nobody sang it better than oul Ronnie himself.