Please allow me to orchestrate myself
I'm an instrument that's strange
I've been around an old cow's neck
And I've hung around the range
I made a sound that someone liked
And they thought they'd go write a song
Made damn sure that few notes
Would get played the whole piece long

Pleased to beat you
You can do the same
But what's puzzling you
Is my sound is rather lame

I've hung around percussionists
And I've played a role in some rock songs
Played a part in some musicals
And my metal hide is strong
I've made a clank, when they hit my flank
I've worked for John Cage, even when it stank

Pleased to beat you
You can do the same
But what's puzzling you
Is my sound is rather tame

I sat between drums and tambourines
Fought for time to play
For the notes they made
I clanked them out
Who wrote this symphony?
When after all it was Ricky D

Let me please orchestrate myself
I'm a crappy steel bar
And I played backup for the Doors,
Who and Rolling Stones and “Drive My Car”

Pleased to beat you
You can do the same
But what's puzzling you
Is my sound is quite a shame

Pleased to beat you
You can do the same
But what's puzzling you
Is that sound has me to blame

Just as every note is subliminal
And all violas quaint
As noises go, just call percussionists
Those guys have no restraint
So if you hear me, in some comedy
Or a symphony, don't make haste
Use all your patient musicness
Or your head I just might waste

Pleased to beat you
You can do the same
But what's puzzling you
Is my sound is rather lame, um whack it, make sound

(clunk, clunk)
(clunk, clunk)
(clunk, clunk)
(clunk, clunk)

Oh yeah make sound!
Tell me Bossie, what's my tune?
Tell me, Clara, can you name this tune?

(clunk, clunk)
(clunk, clunk)
(clunk, clunk)
(clunk, clunk)