The Sons And Daughters (Of Robinhood)

We all watched you on our TV,
Right Honourable Gentlemen, apparently,
Different voices with only one aim,
To win my vote, 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 you vote when there isn't to choice?

If you thought that we would do nothing you've misunderstood...
For we are the Sons and Daughters of Robin Hood!

See I remember exclusion zones,
At Solstice time around the Stones,
Poll Tax riots at 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 off Shetland will do just fine,
And you wanted to sell off our forests like you closed down mines.

Nothing to see, there's nothing to see, there's nothing to see here...
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 your symbol is the English oak tree,
Is that your idea of irony?
Now millions of eyes are 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 flows in our veins!