What like this?

Twas in the Shire of Nottingham
In the year twelve hundred and ten
Lived a man by the name of Robin Head
And his band of very merry men.
They lived on nuts and berr-i-es
And the occasional spotted deer
Doing the macrobiotic thing
And dispensing oodles of cheer.

The sound of merry laughter
Ran out through the forest green
There was old Friar Tuck (With whom nothing rhymes)
And Marion the acid queen
Said Little John, "Lets have some mead"
Said Robin, "Ooh. what's the point"
"I'm tired of doing this venison thing"
"Lets go and roll a joint"

Just then there burst upon the scene
A band of the Sherrifs men
Saying "Allo, allo, allo, allo"
"And what's all this 'ere then?"
"You'll have to come along with us"
"To the palace of the King"
"Said Robin "Oh man, don't get so uptight"
"I'm only doing my thing"

So Robin bade his men farewell
And to Marion he gave a kiss
Then went with certain substances
For further analysis
And the news it spread both far and wide
And the people all came to see
For the man who always gave good deals
Was of great popularity

So Robin was dragged before the throne
Of Nottingham's terrible King
"For months now, I've been after you"
"and now you'll bloody well swing"
"But before I sentence you to hang"
"For the evils what you've done"
"Tell me, what is this weed you grow in the woods"
"I think I will try some"

The minutes passed in silence
And the air grew awful thick
Then the Sherrif cried "Ooh, the colours man!"
And was promptly horribly sick
And now our story has to end
As happy as it began
For Robin now deals for the countryside
And the Sherrif does Nottingham!