I won't hear a word against Dr Chris
Finally someone sticking up for us
Building a town where we can settle down
Once we've brushed off this infernal dust
I gather he was a farmer's boy
I hear he treat his mother and his father right
And when a Tommy needs a home
He's decided where I should go

He's picked the rooms a certain size
I can even piss inside
Unless there's frozen pipes

So la-di-dah to have a lawn
Left miles from everything I've ever known
I'll be keeping my evers green
And the fresh paint on doorstep clean
The best kept garden in Becontree

The way Dr Chris would want it to be
And when the rent man comes around
The grumpy old sod's going
To beg to shake my hand

He'll say, "Your roses are divine
Your evergreens precisely regulation size"