Wee Willie’s agent made the call

Willie wasnae expecting it at all

As in his bed he idly lay

That fateful January day

“Get up Willie, Tam exclaimed

Get oot your bed and leave yer hame

Get on your kilt, your brogues, your hose

And grab your pipes and don your clothes

I’ve had a call from the SRFU

The very man they need is you

This is no wind up, it’s the truth

They want you to play upon the roof

In front of sixty-seven thousand fans

You’ll be following the Lothian and Borders band”

As Willie absorbed this slice of information

Of his abrupt impending elevation

His first thought was to tell Tam where to go

On account of his tendency to vertigo

He’d always experienced this fear of heights

Whilst putting up outside Christmas lights

So the thought of gazing out at Arthur’s Seat

From the dizzy height of one hundred feet

With nothing much to stop a fall

Was one that failed to thrill him at all

“But Willie”, says Tam “ye cannae say no

You’ve nothing else on, business is slow

And all your Christmas money’s spent

Besides, what about my ten per cent?

It’s all agreed, all signed and sealed

You’re on at 2, at Murrayfield

Set record on the wide screen telly

And get some porridge in your belly

The wind chill’s fierce I’ve just been told

So take a hip flask for the cold”

 

And that’s how Willie found himself

Perched upon a narrow shelf

Gazing out at Arthur’s Seat

From the dizzy height of one hundred feet

Lone piper in the matchday plan

The greatest laxative known to man

Ginger wigs and tam o’ shanters

voices raised in beery banter

Flower of Scotland fills the air

With Wee Willie standing there

Fortified by Islay’s best

He squeezes his buttocks, puffs out his chest

Eyes tight shut, facing north

A fiercesome gust from the River Forth

In its icy breath he started to wilt

As the wind found its way beneath his kilt

He thought of Burns, which gave him solace

And Bannockburn and William Wallace

Standing alone there, dejected defeated

As every extremity rapidly retreated

He caught a twinkle in the eye of Princess Ann

Wee Willie’s newest, biggest fan

As she turned to the blazered man beside

Wee Willie had a surge of pride

“Is he all right being that exposed

In his flying sporran, brogues and hose?

What I can see looks rather rude

Maybe it’s the altitude?”

With eyes still shut and cheeks inflated

Willie’s performance was X rated

To be greeted by a resounding cheer

Rapturous applause, spilt beer

And now of Scotland’s newest talisman they speak

Let’s book him for the match next week.