Almost
We celebrate your natural fitness,
Now your sort is not a slave –
Although you’re not, we must bear witness,
Quite as great as John (or Dave) –
But still you join the CEOs,
Now your darker days are gone –
Riding high at every close,
If not as high as Dave (or John).
Oh be fair, you’ve beaten Barry,
Seen off Faisal and Farouk,
Wiped the floor with Jim and Gary,
Risen over Marmaduke –
John (or Dave) may have your measure,
But then they are a race apart:
Each one is a national treasure,
Taken to the FTSE’s heart.
Surely you would not begrudge one
Chap like John (or Dave) his crown –
A girl is never a curmudgeon.
Seven of you! Hit the town!
No more Cecil, no more Horace,
Yes, you girls have cut up rough!
No more Binkie, no more Boris!
(Though Dave – and John – are sterner stuff.)
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