Mud, mud
All over the street
It sticks to your feet
It's mud, mud
You get it in your hair
You get it everywhere
That mud, brown mud
There's a mad bad King and he's called King John
And he sits on a big bad throne
And he takes all the people's money
And he won't leave the people alone
He taxes their farms he taxes their homes
He taxes their flesh and blood
He lives for the pleasure of counting his treasure
But all the people've gotta eat...
Is mud, mud
They eat mud pies
That are covered in flies
Just mud, sweet mud
They make mud spread
And they spread it on their bread
That's mud, just mud
They drink then they cry
"Here's mud in your eye!"
That's mud, mud
The Sheriff nicks Rabies' raffle tickets
This man is the Sheriff of Nottingham
And he works for the bad King John
He's a liar he's a spier he's a nicker and a tricker
And he knows what's going on
SHERIFF: I know what's going on!
But even though they're poor and sore
The people have a dream:
One day someone will come along
Who'll turn their mud to cream
Someone who'll fight for the people's rights
And set all the people free
Who'll whip the Sheriff and bad King John -
But who could this someone be?
MARIAN: I think he means me!
Yes who will this someone be?
MARIAN: With my ruthless band of
freedom fighters!
Yes who will this someone be?
MARIAN: And here's how the band
got together...
