Rob Newman

"There's no fruit, let them eat ribbon"?

There's no end to all their fibbin'.

Flaunt the rights of nomics, ring

Out the scam and loudly sing:

"Oh we're marching to PTomic Day!

Rob Newman will claim his bloody prize:

Free our ruleset from th'imperial

Ambassador and all his pretty lies!"

Bloodstained ribbons, dirty notes:

Naked fear in all their votes.

See them bow their heads? They know

That, like B Nomic, we'll ne'er go;

And we're marching to PTomic Day:

Rob Newman will claim his bloody prize!

Bring out the spy, the phony

Ambassador: denounce his silky ties!

Lessons taught but never learnt:

All around us, nomics burnt.

Guide the future by the past:

Long ago the mould was cast.

For we marched up to PTomic Day!

Rob Newman claimed his bloody prize!

Hear the echoes of the centuries:

Power isn't all that voting buys.