Ian Anderson - The Pax Britannica lyrics

I came to woo you at behest of Uncle Leo, did my best to charm and flatter, sooth, lay thoughts of scheming Saxon Prince to rest. Just seventeen, you were emboldened, turned away plain Orange boy and made for me a consort haven in your heart, haven of joy. Now Empire spills a growing blot across the atlas, leaves its mark. The hands of men in iron ships stoke their boilers, fan the spark. Generous in deed and promise, our emissaries make fair trade and pay with sovereign Queenly coin for goods and worldly fortunes made. We will win them and contain them, not by Enneld Pattern gun: no hard coercion, whip or stick but ten good shillings to be won. See, we offer contracts clear in English, plain as it appears in small print, some trifling matters: not important, never fear. Pax Britannica, Pax Britannica, rules the headland and the wave. Hansa spirit will enrich us, keep us from an early grave. Sweet Victoria, Mother England, gracious queen whom God will save. We'll leave them gifts of architecture, engineering, laws and more. The willow bat, the bowler hat of gentlemen who keep the score. Head-up code of moral conduct, never minions to deceive. Straight the ball and, best ofall, when time is come, we take our leave. Pax Britannica, Pax Britannica, rules the headland and the wave. Hansa spirit will enrich us, keep us from an early grave. My sweet Victoria, your dearest Albert; two ledger lines above the stave.