He is the greatest He is the ultimate Of all things And of all beings. In him I move And have my being. He rarely smiles, But if ever he smiles I liquefy; I petrify If stony and grave he looks Which he usually does. When near him I become nervy, But away from him My nerves become strong. To prove it with a vengeance Without a moment's loss I test the strength of my nerves On him to whom I am the boss. Does my boss have a boss? Like me Does my boss do similarly?
It's an axiomatic truth My boss is always right. He knows everything It's as sure as morning Goes before evening. Possessed of intuition And judgement sound He can never be wrong. Whatever is right is right Because of him And in spite of me; But if anything ever goes wrong In spite of him It's because of me Who fails to give The right kind of advice. If you don't believe See my ACR* For it's all written there In that dreadful dossier. How is the boss to his boss? Also a dross? Logically, of course, If he has a boss.
Logically it also follows – And it's a piece of friendly advice – You have to propitiate and please Not only your boss But also your boss's boss And you have to rightly guess Who that personage is. And may you God bless If by chance Your wife isn't uglier than his. It's still worse If over his brat your brat excels. In either case You seek a transfer Or voluntarily retire Or better go to hell Rather than over your boss excel.