Oh, What dismay,
that at work we must stay.
But it's the end of an artificial season,
It's the end of the parsimonious charade;
It's the end of governmental fiscal year.
So let no dollar go unspent,
less we come to know a year long lent.
And think not on rationalization or justification,
For if you do, we will come to suffer monetary penalization.
Bookkeepers and Procurators leave your scruples beside you,
Otherwise your employer will not abide you;
A dollar well spent is here is not our end,
For success is measured in resources spent.
May the legitimacy of our engagements and practices never come into question,
Nor the merit of our institution suffer scrutinization;
For If our social coin should suffer moral scale,
Supply of fodder will shorten, and perpetual war fail.
So hope and pray that political disinterest be eternal,
And the public worship of the soldier be interminable.
For without this, life for our enlisted men would be infernal,
And our game of lord and peasant, terminable.
So please spend all you can,
For this blind praise will have no end.