The Cast of Roald Dahl's Matilda The Musical – The Smell of Rebellion
Genre Pop

LYRIC
The Smell of Rebellion

MISS. TRUNCHBULL

This school of late has started reeking -
Quiet, maggot, 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 odor of rebellion
It's the bouquet of dissent!

And you may bet your britches
This headmistress
Finds this foul odiferousness
Wholly olfactorily insulting
And so to stop the stench's spread
I find a session of phys-ed
Sorts the merely rank from the revolting

MISS. TRUNCHBULL, spoken

Come along, squits!
I'll take it from here, Jenny!

MISS. TRUNCHBULL, sung

The smell of rebellion comes out in thе sweat
And phys-ed will get you swеating
And it won't be long before I smell the pong
Of aiding and abetting!

Before a weed becomes too big and greedy
You really need to nip it in the bud
Before the worm starts to turn
You must scrape off the dirt
And rip it from the mud!

The whiff of insurgence!
The stench of intent!
The reek of pre-pubescent protest!
The pong of defiance!
The odour of coup!
The waft of anarchy in progress!
Once we've exercised these demons
They shall be too pooped for scheming
Some double-time discipline
Should stop the rot from setting in!

Discipline
Discipline
For children who aren't listening
For midgets who are fidgeting
And 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 ones like this
They just want discipline
The simpering and whimpering
The dribbling and the spittling
The 'Miss, I need a tissue'
Is an issue we can fix
There is no mystery to mastering
The art of classroom mistressing
It's discipline, discipline, discipline!
The smell of rebellion!
The stench of revolt!
The reek of pre-pubescent plotting!
The whiff of resistance!
The pong of dissent!
The stink of moral fibre rotting!

ANNOUNCER, spoken

What a champion! Agatha Trunchbull has done it again!
What an athlete, what a winner!

MISS. TRUNCHBULL

Imagine a world with no children
Close your eyes and just dream
Imagine. Go on - try it...
The peace and the quiet...
A babbling stream...
Now imagine a woods with a cottage
And inside that cottage we find
A parrot called Zeke, 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 take them away!"
"If you find your way through,"
"They'll be waiting for you,"
"Singing 'neigh neigh neiiigh'!"

[CHILD, spoken
She's mad!

[MISS TRUNCHBULL
AHA! And there, just like I said
The stinking maggot rears his head
Have you ever seen anything more repellent?!
Have you ever smelled anything worse
Than that smell of rebellion?!
The scent of revolt!
The reek of insubordination!
A whiff of resistance!
The pong of dissent!

And I will not stop 'til you are squashed!
'Til this rebellion is quashed!
'Til glorious, sweaty discipline has washed
This sickening stench...
Away!

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