Barney McDoogle blew his new bugle
From morning straight into the night.
He marched up and down the streets in the town
Performing to his heart’s delight.
His manner was sleek, far from a band geek
The ladies thought him oh, so fine!
He played with great ease, all ears he appeased
And they followed him in a grand line.
His musical treat moved everyone’s feet
And they danced to his happy tunes.
But in days they’d tire, their state became dire
So they called on the local tribunes.
The townsfolk he met had one, big regret
As Barney was tooting his brass;
His notes became sour, hour by hour
And sickened the people he’d pass.
Seems no one could sleep, not even a peep
The whole town was in an uproar.
They must find a way by the end of the day
To end his deafening score.
So at the town hall, the duties did call
For the mayor to take a vote.
With unanimous cry and hands raised up high,
The mayor announced, and I quote…
“Today I declare, to be very fair
And end all these musical strains.
These tunes are too rough, enough is enough-
I must rid this town of its pains.”
“Barney McDoogle, you and your bugle
Are now banned from blasting a tune.
If we hear one more toot, we’ll give you the boot
And launch you clear up to the moon!”
Poor Barney was sad, and then he got mad.
Repulsed by their feelings of scorn;
“You can’t make me stop from playing my prop!”
So they took the mad bull by its horn
And raced up the hill with precision and skill
Then hoisted with all of their might,
That debonair square, straight into the air
Now his music is outta sight!