Richie Webb - Joan of Arc lyrics

[JOAN OF ARC, spoken] Ok, pamplemousse, baguette and brie. Are you ready? (sung) I'm Joan Of Arc from Domrémy Religious visions came to me God said ‘Save France from the English' And make Dauphin Charles king! Dauphin means heir to the throne But England claimed the crown as their own We had a hundred years of war This girl had to do something! So I did it like a dude, cut my hair Gave up wearing dresses, bought a pair Of trousers, no blouses Said I wanna fight Angleterre Charles let me join the army, army, army Know that might sound barmy, barmy, barmy I proved impressive Hit by an arrow and lived English troops I over ranny, ranny, ranny Defeated them at Patay, Patay, Patay We saved Orléans and Charles was crowned, trés bon! Me leading troops, a long shot But I was a lucky mascot Inspired soldiers with bravery Fought injured and survived But in 1430, Burgundians captured me! King Charles wouldn't pay my ransom No one told me why! Being prisoner was not my style Tried escaping from my capture's vile But then the English who fought me bought me! Made me stand trial! So where was King Charlie, Charlie, Charlie? He'd given up and left me, left me, left me In the English snare Whole thing so unfair They put me in a uh- hu? N-nunnery They said don't be uh-hu? F-funnery If you dress like a male We'll put you in men's jail [ENGLISH JUDGE] Joan of Arc? You're charged with sorcery [JOAN OF ARC] You're just jealous 'cause God speaks to me [ENGLISH JUDGE] Say you speak to saints? In this discourse, what language do they speak? [JOAN OF ARC] French, of course. [ENGLISH JUDGE] Pah! Now you're in prison, they have failed you. [JOAN OF ARC] I say it's God's plan that you're my jailer. [ENGLISH JUDGE] Here's a trick question in that case. Do you think you're in God's grace… ? [JOAN OF ARC] If I am not, may God put me there And if I am, may God so keep me [ENGLISH JUDGE] Oh, your smart remarks go round the houses You're guilty of heresy (and wearing men's trousers) [JOAN OF ARC] Despite my testimony, mony, mony Condemned for reasons phony, phony, phony But my will did not break So they tied me to a stake Burned alive was my destiny, tiny, tiny And here is the irony, rony, rony My d**h led France to put on war paint And crush the English, so now I'm a saint