Four days it took to get to the tan, (camp)
Here to farm for to work,
Money to earn, to get food for the pan,
Not known to us the gavvers (police, etc) did lurk.

Vardos set tilts tied tight,
camp fires burning heating the pani (water)
Strong tea, an cheeseon bread will have to see us right,
By morns rising to fields we'd go just like an army.

The night was cold, the moon she was full, sitting high in the sky,
little we knew how the day it would start,
as sun replaced moon, they raided the tan, ol' joe the first to die,
The gavvers cosh it hit him hard, the skull it did part.

the waggons did burn the chavvs (children) they did run,
the gavvers the council, the locals, didnt care for any,
Pain and fear it ruled the day, many did die at the end of a gun,
The new laws were in, no stopping it says, not even allowed to earn a penny.

The travelling day gone , the people are next,
settle you will, the law says you must,
no land can you live on, your ways they are hex'd
where ever you go your type we wont trust.

a way of life, a culture being slowly destroyed and smashed,
we the victims sit and watch, for to stand up and fight,
would only bring quicker the time to be cashed.
who will pick up the pieces, and see our plight.