They call him Friar Tuck
Straight arrow, you'd say stout
Tonight he has this very unsav’ry like way
Of coming out

Those inhibitions freed
Making woodsman blush
They hoot and holler evenings
Says Friar,
“Look boys, just don’t touch.”

This night he really matters
He’s waited since Tuesday
He pads his best, and goes out on display

Tuck is the lady, tonight.
Tuck is the lady, that’s right.
Tuck’s legs are hairy and he’s dressed to nines with sequins
Tuck is the lady, all right!

Tuck’s heart is longing to sing
Sam’s standard “Gotta be me.”
Now is the day he’s happy showing off his midriff
Tuck, he’s a lady, no tease

This friar used to dance in court
For Sherriff fair
It wasn’t nice
This friar always wondered, to this life he’s doomed
Indulge mister Naughtyham’s vice.

His future, I’d say, is bright
Plunder all day, then at night
The men get merry, once a week our guy dons lipstick
Tuck, is their lady, you see

Tuck thinks that Robin Hood’s keen
Cute in tights and sheen shiny green
The maid’s an older guy who’s living south of Pickwick
Tuck, thinks she’s needy and cheap

The maiden mistreating her old beau
Her icy stair
It isn’t nice
Seems Robin aims for targets, who over him, swoon
He’s cheated with that Little John twice

Deep in the dark woods at night
The middle-aged men take flight
You’d swear that maybe, there’s a guy in drag well equipped
Tuck be that lady, tonight

Tuck is that lady
Tuck is that lady
Tuck is that lady…tonight!