And in the scout hut debate still rages on The most dangerous junction in Christendom And Cathy Staniforth's milk bank opens soon Yonder the deacon in misguided trousers Yonder the deacon in misguided trousers We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune Ma-ma-maroon was the colour of my true love's hair She's got a cross-stitch exhibition over there A spate of pan fires isn't going to happen round here It fills me with joy to see moshers out jogging It fills me with joy to see moshers out jogging Ain't no local groups called f** Your Conglomerate No narky young upstarts called f** Your Conglomerate 'Cos we built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune With wattle and daub 'neath a silvry moon We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune Rehearsals afoot for the Christmas Play It's called "Roll The Square Arthur" and mind what you say It's a cricketing farce with a thickening plot Act One, Scene One – Brenda Blethyn gets shot Graduated to solids disturbingly early Graduated to solids disturbingly early Oh the Mummers, the Papas The Best Of The Coppers Anyone can join in so I discarded my jeans And played wine-maddened Pentheus, the King of Thebes And some Bloomsbury peripheral said I had the best line Check your sheds, check your sheds, I think I've lost my mind! Oh we built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune There's a Sword Dance every twenty-seventh of June We built this village on a Trad. Arr. tune