Who are these, swinging along the road
With a pack on their back, a song in their heart, to ease the load
It's been 50 years or more since they walked in through that door,
But they're coming along as happy and strong as ever they came before
They are guides all guides and in unexpected places
You'll meet their friendly faces and a friendly, happy smile,
And there's not much danger of finding you're a stranger
For commissioner or ranger they are guides, all guides.

Who are these, living in fresh air
With the shimmering sun, the pattering rain and mud everywhere
They will dine beneath the boughs and their leader always vows that they're never afraid of butterflies and hardly ever of bear!
They are Guides all guides...etc.