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Wash-day for granny was an all day event
Before the new times when machines were invent
She would strip the mattresses back to the rough horse-hair
And fill the dolly-tub with no room to spare
Except for a little bag by the name of a Dolly Blue
A wonderful concoction to bring cleanliness through

First to go in were the least dirty things
And granny would stir them with a dolly as she flings
Shirt collars in to be starched to make them look stiff
Her husband would wear them with his hair greased in a quiff
The bit she liked best was when she wheeled out the mangle
And she rolled the washing through trying not to tangle

A line that seemed the length of half of the street
Was tied up to posts for all strangers to muse and greet
Billowing bedding looking like the sails of a boat
Walking past them and getting caught around the throat
Now no such hard work, press a button and it's all done
But hey, where's the pleasure, and where's all the fun?

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