As I walked out in the High street of Maldon
As I walked out in old Maldon one day,
I spied a poor dancer shiverin' all in white linen,
Wrapped up in white linen and cold as the clay.

"I see by your bells that you too are a dancer,"
These words she did say as I boldly stepped by.
"Come join our cold party and hear my sad story;
I was mugged by the Morris and I know I must die."

"Let sixteen Greenjackets come handle my coffin,
Let sixteen Greenjackets line up and perform,
Take me to the graveyard and lay the sod o'er me,
For I'm a cold dancer who will never get warm.

"All through the summer I used to go dancing,
When it was warmer I'd dance a fine hey.
But the cruel winter wind puts a knife through my body
The flu "s on my chest, I am dying today."

"Get six jolly dancers to carry my coffin,
Get six pretty barmaids to serve them good beer
Send the Squire a memo to learn from my dying
Don't go a-dancing in December next year."

"O beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly
And play the dead march as you carry me along,
Take me to the Blue Boar and buy me some cider
I'm a frozen Greenjacket who needs to get warm"

"Go bring me a glass, a glass of hot scrumpy
To warm my chapped lips," oh so faintly she said.
Before I returned, the spirit had left her
And gone to her Maker, the dancer was dead.

We sing our songs lowly and drink our ale slowly
And bitterly weep as our tears hit the ground.
For we all loved our comrade, so generous and handsome,
And now for a change we must buy our own round.