Scots woman at the boarding gate
Marshalling her happy band,
Tickets, passports, boarding passes
All clutched firmly in her hand.

Then she gives her troops instructions,
Firmly with no chance for "No."
Times for rising, meeting, meal times,
What to see and where to go.

Watching her I have a vision
Of her acquiescent band,
Marching round the streets of Lisbon,
Following her upraised hand.

Will anyone rebel, I wonder,
Will anybody go AWOL.
Or will they simply do her bidding,
A marching, Scottish foot patrol?

One thing of which we're very sure,
No bad behaviour will be seen,
In any Lisbon public place,
By the subjects of this Queen!