We all watched you on our TV,
Right honourable gentleman, apparently.
Different voices with only one aim,
To win my vote, and to win the game.
Now some have died to pave the way,
So we can vote come polling day,
X marks the spot that gives us our voice,
But how do we vote when there isn’t a choice.
If you thought that we would do nothing,
For we are the Sons and Daughters,
of Robin Hood!
See I remember exclusion zones,
At Solstice time around the Stones,
And the poll tax riots of Trafalgar Square,
The rich they got richer, the poor were stripped bare,
Building new roads with no thought for the land,
And the blood of the Beanfield is still on your hands,
Now drilling of Shetland will do you just fine,
And you wanted to sell of our forests,
Like you closed down mines.
There’s nothing to see, there’s nothing to see, there’s nothing to see here,
There’s nothing to see, won’t you just look away, there’s nothing to see here.
England’s green and pleasant land,
Is not there to put cash in your hands,
I see you symbol is the English Oak Tree,
Is that your idea of irony?
Now millions of eyes have turned upon you,
And each one is watching what you will do,
And all are ready to spoil your game,
For the blood of an outlaw it flows in our veins!