Song of foot

Sometimes when I am well fed and my mind...
Doesn't have my best interests in mind
It's the times like these
That my feet, they speak and sing, cause they do so better than can my head

Cause when I play any regular sort of tune
Like a Shotish or a Waltz or a Jig or a Reel
Or a Certims or a Hornpipe or a Polka
My fever will have nothing to do with the proper time
No my fever will have no to do with the proper time

Times when I am well fed and my mind...
Doesn't have my best interests in mind
It's the times like these
That my feet, they speak and sing, cause they do so better than can my head

Let them speak their heady opinions though and you'll hear...
Oil and butter
Lots of oil, lots of butter
Oil and butter