Another rhyme – another warning!

About young Parsnip who was a good-hearted musician but was exploited financially and whose only revenge was to give a warning to others.

Gradwell Parsnip young musician
Hankered after a position;
Unassuming and not sporty
Organ playing was his forte
Here a fugue and there a trio
All the music played “con brio”

Parsnip started as a child
With a teacher kind and mild
She had taught him all she could
Stirred the music in his blood
Solfege rudiments and theory
Studied till his eyes were bleary
Thus he gained great background knowledge
Stood him in good stead in college
Where all masters were impressed
By Gradwell Parsnip playing his best.

Four years later, what do you know?
Parsnip – B.Mus FRCO

And so he starts on his career
He plays and makes the music clear
He sings accompanies and aspires
To train direct and conduct choirs
He broadcasts too and makes some money
After Dinner Speaking – Funny!
(For such a life as this, take note,
Gives plenty types of anecdote).
So happy Parsnip full of life
Continues living without strife.
And for the first time since his birth
Begins to realise he has worth

And then one day, there came a call
From local Vicar, Reverend Tall
Who wondered was there any way
That Mr Parsnip please might play?
“Our organist is going to Reading
And forgot about this wedding”.
“No problem Vicar” Parsnip said
“Just take it” like they say “as read”.
“I understand that there will be
The standard RSCM fee?”
So hereabouts his Reverence spluttered
His answer was not clear but muttered.

Parsnip played his best that day
Some Bach and Wagner, Durufle
With Mendelssohn and Thalben Ball
The English School – he played them all
He played well all the hymns and psalms
But little silver crossed his palms.
And as I write this very day
He still awaits the proper pay.

But Parsnip was a gentle man
And told him “Pay me when you can,
“I do not think you of the worst”,
But now warns:- “Get The Money First”.
Musicians also need to eat
To be well-shod and turn out neat
You would not like them at your wedding
In worn-out shoes and clothes like bedding
Pretending they can do the job
Like some useless no-good blob.

Moral to the young musician:
So let that be a lesson learnt
By those who’ll get their fingers burnt.

Moral to the booking party:
And don’t you be a music sniper:
Call the tune – but pay the piper.

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