My Scottish Cousin
By Henry Tudor

If only you had just waited, your time would have come
This Land that you feted would have been yours for your home.
As Queen in both France and in Scotland, you expected to reign
You completely misread your own people, no Catholics again.
I sent you my envoy, our cousin to speak
You married him wrongly, handsome but so weak.
He killed your friend David so you plotted his fall
He died in explosion, in searing fire ball.

Run now from your own people, they hate you so much
Even your ally that feared Bothwell, your new husband as such.
He died in a box within Danish lock, he tried to defend you to the end
Such was the sad end to your last Scottish friend.
Even your son James now hates your own name
So why did you turn on me, such a shame don’t you see?
Planning your coup was completely by you
Your traitorous letters in post, I‘ve got one or two.

Red wigged, caught red handed you died on the block
The Scots did not bother, they even did mock.
Your Son will inherit what you should have had
But your impatience, not your merit, your nature so bad.
We turn the page over when history declares
That a traitor was caught here, caught red handed in snare.
Trying to murder your own cousin to make you the Queen
But in truth dear evil Mary, our people would have seen.