Hamelin’s Pied Piper stept,
From his reed pass’d notes so sweet
That the children all came running,
Captivated by his cunning,
Follow’d at his heels, and then
Never more returned again?
A spectacle like to that kind of thing
At Westminster now is happening;
The piper there, thinking the time is ripe,
Tootles aloud on his festive pipe.