I Am An African Drum

I am not a keyboard And as piano you won't play me Just by pressing the key you please. I am an African drum A dumb,blind deaf drum And so to play me you hit me hard. Hit me so hard and soft The tempo both fast and slow You hit till your hands are sore. Made of dead cow's skin I am I too might have just gone insane As the cow with whose skin I was made. Huge bull with blinded left eye and:- One horn at the centre of the forehead A gawdy image of insanity accentuated It lost two horns in battle Going through metal barks of molten wax But another on its forehead soon grew. So the bull in me went mad Till by psychopath butcher was slaughtered To make me the African drum I really am.