Glee! The great club is over!
Four have remained committed,
Twelve gone home to rest;
Now what shall we call this quartet?
Sing, for the new peroration!
Dance, for these soothing tunes!
John and Jim and Bob and Frank—
I guess we’ll get used to them soon.
How will we tell if they’re good
Or when their songs will end?
Won’t the children wonder
Why their notes don’t blend?
Then a silence suffuses the story,
And a softness the teller’s eye;
“These guys are shaving my face,
So please don’t ask me why.”