I sing a song of JudgeCast, and its hosts I will acclaim;
From IRC to tourney halls will e’er resound their fame.
With emails they show patience, with segues their sharp wit;
The dulcet sonnets of their voices cause my heart to quit.

I sing a song of C.J., the man of editing power,
Who comes each fortnight on us blessings of the cast to shower.
The Card names and the Dr. Who may oft elude his mind,
But without his steady tiller hand the show it would unwind.

I sing a song of Prillaman, everybody’s fave L2—
Wait, he is an L3 now? Since when has that been true?
He’s been down every tangent, and around them he won’t skirt;
But how am I to trust ‘tis true he’s not older than dirt.

I sing a song of Jess Dunks, the one who’s sometimes missing;
He and his bonnie lass, I ‘spect are off somewhere a- kissing.
But when it comes to Modern rules, he’s certainly no scrub;
Yet he won’t speak the name of that great 2/2, our .

I sing a song of JudgeCast, and my lungs shall never weary,
Until each Magic player has been resigned of every query.
Let us always hold these pillars of our game in high esteem,
Till all our Magic-playing days be Dismissed into Dream.