A Not-So-Fond Farewell
All stood in their lines
Armed with nothing more or less
But many of them possesses a tongue
That can cut like Bordeaux steel.
Say goodbye to the regularity, my dears,
And to the regulations.
Say your farewells to
The rest of the bitches in blue jumpers
And too-short skirts.
Because one thing's for sure, my dears,
You're not at the top anymore.