Sorry, that was a quote form Micca's earlier thread:

I conducted some research into the original at Towersey FF this last w/e and all said they didnt know it but wished they did,( I regretted not taking the wordw with me!!)s the gathered fragments of the thread, from which a "song" may be selected according to individual taste,
When This Morris Dance is over
(contributions are marked at end with "Name of origin" to expose the Guilty)
When this Morris dance is over

When this Morris dance is over
Oh How happy I will be
When I get my "civvy" clothes on
No more Morrising for me
No more broken little fingers
No more bollickings from the squire
I'll hang up my snow white snotters
Take my bells off and retire

I will stand upon the sidelines
Criticize the lack of fire
Scoffing at the sides backstepping
Saying" In my day we jumped Higher"
I will argue with the foreman
And I know it will be Bliss
Tell the Squire to Foxtrot Oscar
And in General take the P**s

When they dance in freezing car parks
I'll be inside warm and dry
In the pub with all the ladies
Chatting barmaids on the sly
No more questions "which one's Morris?"
No more "please do "Shepherds hay"
I will sit inside a boozing
Watching hankies wave away (Micca)

I went there as a musician
Dancing was my big mistake
I didn't know that they would need me
Or that my right arm would break
No more Adderbury or Bampton
No more Headington you see
I'll go home and hang my bells up
It's to the physio for me. ( vindelis)

P'raps I'll be a folky singer
No more knocking over beer
And I'll take my singer's finger
And I'll stick it in my ear.
No more waving of the hanky,
No more capering on the grass;
You can tell the bl**ding Squire
He can stick it up ......(schantieman)

When I put away my hankie,
I'll look normal like the rest,
Never mind my bells and braces
And what Yankees call a 'vest'
No more dancing in the garden,
With our band and 'Obby 'oss
And if you will beg my parden,
I think your gain is our loss! (Nigel Parsons)

No more sticks in funny places
No more bladders banged on bum
All I wanted was a tankard
filled with ale and real by gum(Mr Red)

And when me morris days are over
I'll have me own seat at the bar
I'll entertain the landlord's daughter
With tales of how I used to star
Like when I had a wee drop taken
And dropped me snotters in the trough
I fished them out and went back dancing
I guessed the wind would dry them off

And while the lads are making capers
With such gay tales I'll entertain
The wives and girlfriends of the dancers
While their men do sweat and strain
Yes the girls will surely gather round me
Once me bells are last unbuckled
And when I stop the Morris Dancing
There's bound to be some room for cuckolds ( slow alan)