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Joey Brown And The New Order

After the War new suburbs rose
And builders did a roaring trade
But as with every new advance
There is a price that must be paid.

Between the new neat bungalows
Lived Joey Brown, an ageing gypsy
Who walked about in tattered clothes
And kept a string of shaggy ponies,
A dozen chickens, goats and dogs,

His yard a meeting place for cronies
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