The Folker Lyrics

Well, my name is "Fingers Murphy"
But my story's seldom told,
I massacre folk music with a yard of German plywood and a plectrum,
I do requests-just the ones that have two chords in,
And I disregard the rest,
Na na nya na na na na na na nya

Well, I stand on stage the hero a martyr to me trade,
And carry the reminders of all the gigs I've played in
Like the Irish Club-in Luton,
Where I fled in mortal fear—with the imprint of a
Guinness bottle stamped across my ear
Na na nya na na na na na na nya

Seeking twenty with expenses I went looking for a gig
Got no offers--just a come on from a groupie up in
Neasden,
I do declare--I was feeling rather randy so I had her
Then and there,
Na na nya na na na na na na nya

Na na na-ya Na na na na na na na-ya
Na na na-ya Na na na na na na na-ya
Na na na-ya Na na na na na na na-ya

Well, I've sung the full tradition with my finger in my
Ear,
Cause half the stuff I'm singin'—I just can't bear to
Hear—it's a load of cobblers,
Bar after bar--to the rhythm of an out of tune Japanese
Guitar
Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .

Well, I met this great guitarist-I asked him for
Advice,
But the message that he gave me--wasn't very nice or
Even civil,
Stick it where--and if I did how could I tune it with
It stuck way up there,
Na na nya na na na na na na nya