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Let's toot & salute
Folks our bespoke bloke
Having a hoot..
Bearing fruit loot
English cricketing oak 
Celestial extra terrestrial Groot

Can't be snooty about tutti fruity 
Rooty's booty on lions duty
As an Aussie would quip
You absolute beauty

Humble while records tumble..crumble
Can hear dear old Bumble..no quibble 
Told from red rose fold across the Ribble
Saying for me..sold.. Rooty better
Run getter...record setter 
Fetter even KP...cricketing gold

In the MCC heaven eleven
Story of forever glory
But never look at me
Only one with a magnificent 
Seven on the adored 
Boards at Lords
Top of the tree

Despite his fame...just the same
Puts on the gloves
Joy of a boy
Still really clearly dearly  
Loves the game 

No rebuke..no fluke
For our big grin
Thin White Duke..batting nuke
Believing his pedigree filigree 
Web will keep weaving
Nervous laughter
Leaving Indians peeving

Not being cynical.. it's not cyclical...but clinical.
No retrieving the pinnacle.....puns almost biblical
Our glorious grafter...after runs to every rafter

Joe will nurdle...nudge
Scoreboard budge..purring
Dreamy silky creamy
Drives soul stirring
Lamps perverse reverse ramps whirring

By hook or crook
Snook past Cook with
Textbook look & grace
Took fifth place 
In the record book race

Will beat all the elite
Breaking Rahul's wall
Shaking Kallis's Palace
Forsaking blunter punter
Ponting..bereft at the 
Theft..left..wanting

En song hatching
Catching then snatching
Number one
Dispatching..after so long
Last post gong
Love song of
Dashing don..Sachin

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