You may have seen Wat Tyler When they threw him down below And the peasant men All twenty thousand of them Were undone then in one blow And you may have seen them holler And you may have seen them run On that fateful day As the old books say That the good and the mighty won And up rode young King Richard With a look so sly and cold God is mustering his clouds on our behalf To strike at your children yet unborn And you will remain in bondage Even harsher than before You wretches of men throughout the land Who will seek equality with your lords But hear then brave Wat Tyler And the preacher Mad John Ball Oh, it is from our labour That they have the wherewithal To support their pomp and splendor While we get nothing from them at all But our meal of rye and water And the refuse of the straw So, if someone tries to tame you And to make of you their slave And if you have no means to get the better of them Then at least try to misbehave And you may have seen them holler And you may have seen them run On that fateful day As the old books say That the good and the mighty won And you may have seen them holler And you may have seen them run On that fateful day As the old books say That the good and the mighty won