Thanks to 1/rule 303

We have the Bush-whack Volunteers
Who carp and gripe and grumble
About the long gone past eight years
As markets and jobs crumble
We listen to the tingle legs
And Olber’s nightly rant
When what the situation begs
Is one Breaker Morant
The Piper leads his children on
Enormous spending spree
Over the cliff and we are gone
But for rule 303
Of course these days we’d surely gag
At thinking the idée
Of civilizing with a Krag
Or rule by 303