Lyrics: The Phony King Of England

Oh the world will sing of an English king a thousand years from now
And not because he passed some laws or had that lofty brow
While bonny good King Richard leads the great crusade he's on
We'll all have to slave away for that good for nothing John
Incredible as he is inept
Whenever the history books are kept
They'll call him the phony King of England
A pox on that phony King of England

He sits alone on a giant throne pretending he's the King
A little tyke who's rather like a puppet on a string
And he throws an angry tantrum if he cannot have his way
And then he calls for Mum while he's sucking his thumb
You see he doesn't want to play

Too late to be known a John the First
He's sure to be known as John the Worst
A pox on that phony King of England

You lay that country on me babe
C'mon Johnny
Go laddie go

While he taxes us to pieces and he robs us of our bread
King Richard's crown keeps slipping down around that pointed head, oh
But while there is a merry man in Robin's wily pack
We'll find a way to make him pay and steal our money back
A minute before he knows we're there
Old Rob'll snatch his underwear
The breezy and uneasy King of England
The snivelling, grovelling
Needling, wheedling
Blabbering, jabbering
Jibbering, jabbering
Blundering, plundering
Wheeling, dealing
Prince John that phony King of England