The bodhrán (/ˈbɔːrɑːn/ or /ˈbaʊrɑːn/; plural bodhráns) is an Irish frame drum ranging from 25 to 65 cm (10 to 26 in) in diameter, with most drums measuring 35 to 45 cm (14 to 18 in). The sides of the drum are 9 to 20 cm (3 1⁄2 to 8 in) deep. A goatskin head is tacked to one side (synthetic heads or other animal skins are sometimes used). The other side is open-ended for one hand to be placed against the inside of the drum head to control the pitch and timbre.
One or two crossbars, sometimes removable, may be inside the frame, but this is increasingly rare on modern instruments. Some professional modern bodhráns integrate mechanical tuning systems similar to those used on drums found in drum kits. It is usually with a hex key that the bodhrán skins are tightened or loosened depending on the atmospheric conditions.
According to musician Ronan Nolan, former editor of Irish Music magazine, the bodhrán evolved in the mid-19th century from the tambourine, which can be heard on some Irish music recordings dating back to the 1920s and viewed in a pre-Famine painting. However, in remote parts of the south-west, the "poor man's tambourine" – made from farm implements and without the cymbals – was in popular use among mummers, or wren boys. A large oil painting on canvas by Daniel Maclise (1806–1870) depicts a large Halloween house party in which a bodhrán features clearly. That painting, produced c. 1842, shows a flautist accompanied by a tambourine player who, in an Arabic style in contrast to standard bodhrán technique, used his fingers rather than a tipper. It is known that by the early 20th century, home-made frame drums were constructed using willow branches as frames, leather as drumheads, and pennies as jingles. In photographs from the 1940s and videos from the 1950s, jingles remained part of the bodhrán construction like a tambourine, yet were played with cipín, also known in English as "tipper".
We met some time ago, when we were almost young
It never crossed my mind to ask, where did you come from?
I didn't have much money, so I stole you a rose
You were dressed like an orphan, in Salvation Army clothes
I never thought I'd lose you, no I'd rather go blind
I thought I saw the future but the fortune teller lied
Your love was my salvation, it could always get me high
What was once holy water, tastes like bitter wine
I know I wasn't funny, but you laughed at all my jokes
When I was choking on the words to say
You showed me your finger down my throat
The first night I said I loved you, you told me to go to hell
You were giving me hell, on that creaky old bed at the Ol' Duvol Motel
Just like everything, even good love has to die
Ain't no sympathy when it says goodbye
Your love was my salvation, it could always get me high
What was once holy water, tastes like bitter wine
Just like everything, even good love has to die
Ain't no sympathy when it says goodbye, no one even cried
We were one of a kind, one of a kind
Love left me stranded at the station and the last train's gone by
What was once holy water, tastes like bitter wine
Your love was my salvation, it could always get me high