Tim Minchin - The Smell of Rebellion lyrics

[MISS TRUNCHBULL] This school, of late, has started reeking – [AMANDA] Eric . . [MISS TRUNCHBULL] Quiet, maggots, when I'm speaking! Reeking, with a most disturbing scent Only the finest nostrils smell it But I know it oh-too-well It is the odour of rebellion It's the bouquet of dissent! And you may bet your britches this Headmistress Finds this foul odiferousness Wholly olfactorally insulting And so, to stop this stench's spread I find a session of phys-ed Sorts the merely "rank" from the "revoting" The smell of rebellion comes out in the sweat And phys-ed will get you sweating And it won't be long before I smell the pong Of aiding and abetting A bit of phys-ed will tell us Who has a head full of rebellious thoughts Hold, hold! Just like a rotten egg floats to the top Of a bucket of water The smell of rebellion The stench of revolt [KIDS] One, two, three, four [MISS TRUNCHBULL] The reek of insubordination [KIDS] I can't take it anymore One, two, three, four [MISS TRUNCHBULL] The whiff of resistance The pong of dissent The funk of mutiny in action [MATILDA] That's not right [MISS TRUNCHBULL] Before the weed becomes too big and greedy You really need to nip it in the bud Position two! Before the worm starts to turn You must scrape off the dirt And rip it from the mud! The whiff of insurgence [KIDS] One, two three, four [MISS TRUNCHBULL] The stench of intent [KIDS] One, two, three, four [MISS TRUNCHBULL] The reek of pre-pubescent protest The pong of defiance [KIDS] One, two, three, four [MISS TRUNCHBULL] The odour of coup [KIDS] One, two, three, four [MISS TRUNCHBULL] The waft of anarchy in progress [ERIC] Please, miss, please! [MISS TRUNCHBULL] Once we've "exercised" these demons They shall be too pooped for scheming Some double-time discipline Should stop the rot from setting in! All right, let's step it up. Double time One, two, three, four Discipline. Discipline For children who aren't listening; For midgets who are fidgeting Or whispering in history Their chattering and chittering Their nattering and twittering Is tempered with a smattering Of discipline We must begin insisting On rigidity, and discipline Persistently resisting This anarchistic mischieving These minutes you are frittering On pandering and pitying While little 'uns like this: They just want discipline The simpering and whimpering The dribbling and the spittling The "miss, I need a tissue" – It's an issue we can fix There is no mystery to mastering The art of cla**room discipline It's discipline, discipline – [KIDS] Discipline! [MISS TRUNCHBULL] The smell of rebellion The stench of revolt The reek of pre-pubescent plotting The whiff of resistance The pong of dissent The funk of moral fibre rotting . . Imagine a world with no children Close your eyes and just dream Imagine – come on, try it – The peace and the quiet A burbling stream Now imagine a woods with a cottage And inside that cottage we find A dwarf called Zeek A carnival freak Who can fold paper hats with his mind And he says "Don't let them steal your horses No! Don't let them throw them away No, no, no! If you find your way through They'll be waiting for you, singing "Neigh! Neigh!" [ERIC] She's mad! [MISS TRUNCHBULL] Aha! And there, just like I said: The stinking maggot rears his head! Even the squitiest, pitiest mess Can harbour seeds of stinkiness Have you ever seen anything more repellent? Have you ever smelled anything worse than That smell of rebellion? The stench of revolt The reek of insubordination The whiff of resistance The pong of dissent [KIDS] Discipline. Discipline No more whispering Children need discipline Cut out that whispering If you're mischiefing She'll sniff you out Without a doubt She's a snout in a million Discipline. Discipline No more whispering Children need discipline Cut out that whispering [MISS TRUNCHBULL] And I will not stop till you are squashed; Till this rebellion is quashed; Till glorious, sweaty discipline has washed This sickening stench – away!