A Lament for the US Tax Payer

 On the 18^th of April in ‘75

Hardly a tax was then alive.

A tiny British tax on tea

And Patriots made the British flee.

 

Today Americans meekly send,

Tax money for the rich to spend.

Loopholes and subsidies do the job,

The rich need not the people rob.

 

Where’s Robin Hood? (You might well ask),

His bones are not up to the task.

Offshored dough is hard to trace,

Greed doth run the fastest race.

Your money does much honest work,

It pays for bombs and missiles, jerk.

What about health care? you might ask.

You'd better go and get your flask. 

Please be careful what you say, 

Do not alarm the NRA. 

The army ain't the only ones, 

What's got a lot of potent guns.  

Alas! Do not in misery wallow,

Bread and circuses you can swallow.

Let’s drink a toast to celebrate,

Though Miller and Bud is all we rate.

Champagne and yachts belong to others,

Even though we all are brothers.

Someday their dough will trickle down,

And we can all then go to town.

 

With abject apologies to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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