HE'S GOING IN FOR THIS DANCE NOW
 
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Poor Timothy Blobbs was a gay little spark
Very fond of a dance at a ball
Quite a smash with the girls, and at night after dark
He'd see home one, the smartest of all
But last night as attendance he danced at the house
Of sweet Nellie so charming and kind
From her yard came a dog, and he danced with poor Blobbs
Holding on to his coat-tails behind.

Chorus: So there's no more waltzes, or schottisches, or mazurkas
For our poor young friend, I vow
For the dog's teeth did the lancers
With the seat of Blobbs pants, sirs
And he's going in for this dance now.


Young Harry Makefree was a pet of the dance
But a twelvemonth ago he got wed
Still, though married, he'd always be there when a chance
Of a ball came around , so 'tis said
But last week on returning from business one day
He was fairly knocked right off his pins
For a nurse at his door met him smiling and gay
And said, 'Sir, you're presented with twins'

Chorus: So there's no more waltzes, or schottisches, or mazurkas
For our poor young friend, I vow
With the bottle held so tightly,
With the twins he waltzes nightly
And he's going in for this dance now.


Jim Swelldash was champion of all at the class
Where the mazes of waltzes were taught
And he'd treat all the girls, and drinks round he would pass
Like a regular King at a Court
But one day it leaked out that the cash he had spent
Was his master's, well, so runs the tale
And last week he was to an academy sent
Known to wrong-doing folks as a jail.

Chorus: So there's no more waltzes, or schottisches, or mazurkas
For our poor young friend, I vow
'Stead of dress suit now he's wearing
One that's marked with arrows staring
And he's going in for this dance now.


Tom Atkins, a dancer of wonderful grace
In the army enlisted - good boy
And where'er he was stationed the girls of the place
With our Tom a good dance would enjoy
But he went to the wars - lost a leg and an arm
But the thing that broke poor Tommy's heart
As no pension he had and no wife could support
Like a man he gave up his sweetheart.

Chorus: So there's no more waltzes, or schottisches, or mazurkas
For our soldier friend, I vow
Though well praised in the dispatches,
In the streets he's selling matches
And he's going in for this dance now.
 
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Written and composed by E.W. Rogers - 1906
Performed by Vesta Tilley (1864-1952)
From monologues.co.uk Music Hall Lyrics Collection
 
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