When Your Bells Have Turned Green
As I walked by the brewery one evening so rare
To view the still vats and to sniff the malt air,
I heard an old Morris man singing this song
"Oh bury me here boys, for me galleys have gone."
cho: Wrap me up in me bells and me baldricks.
No more in the pubs I'll be seen,
Just tell me old sidemates I'm takin' a slide, mates
And I'll see you someday when your bells have turned green.
Now, "Bells Have Turned Green" is a pub I've heard tell,
Where Morris men go if they don't go to Hell.
Where the beer is all pretty and the girls are all free
And they'll take you to Heaven, and won't ask a fee.
Where the sun always shines when you dance Shepherd's Hey
And you don't need a squire to show you the way.
And the foreman is there --- Oh! his smile is so sweet
And the perfumes of Araby rise from his feet.
Where Coors "mountain beer" is a sign that is banned,
And the Fool never buggers a dance that is planned,
And the bagman is there, buying drinks by the score
And everyone says "Good! We'll have twenty more"
Now me time has been good, boys. I've had a good part.
And from your kind company I'll happily depart
These words slowly dripped from his lips and his jaw
As he sank down contented in the booze on the floor.