From the book "Max Boyce: his Songs & Poems":

AT THE BOTTOM OF THE GARDEN
(by Max Boyce, 1976)

At the bottom of the garden there's a place you all know,
Where everybody hurries but they try not to show.
Though colliers and lawyers and J.Ps and earls:
Teachers and preachers and young boys and girls.

CHORUS
Singing Toora-ly, oora-ly, oora-ly, ay.
Have you been down there - my darlings, today?
Where there ain't any telly and there isn't a phone:
Where even the King has to go on his own!

They can have their fine mansions and their ivory walls,
They can have their stained windows and echoey halls.
But I'll never be envious although I'm alone:
I'm happy to sit on my own little throne.

Now the people from Cardiff, they spend quite a lot
To try and disguise what, like us, they have got.
There's lace on the curtains and they've Marleyed the floor!
But the plumbing's disconnected - it's just there for show.

But the people from Ponty have theirs designed
So they can sit there with their hands entwined!
And the green lawn around it is perfectly mown,
But the writing on the wall, damn, it can't be their own.

Now the country today's in a terrible way,
With the chapels and churches not paying their way.
But there's one little place that I really can say
It's as popular now as it was yesterday.

Singing Toora-ly, oora-ly, oora-ly, ay.
Ooora-ly, oora-ly, oora-ly, ay.
There's more to my song but must be on my way,
I haven't been down there, my darlings, today!