Lament During Tax Season

‘Tis time to give to Uncle Sam
The gold he did not earn,
Why this seems a proper thing
I have yet to learn.
It wearies me, to work so hard
Then pay the government,
An age old curse of working man
And this is my lament:

O taxes faithful, go away
Leave me now in peace,
I know you’re constant, tireless
I dream of your decease.
I do not wish to dine with you
And watch you eat my meat,
After which, you drink my wine,
Then ask for something sweet.

O taxes cheerful, lose your grin
It isn’t even nice,
To come to me again this year
And flaunt your gruesome price.
You know the numbers tire me
Before I even start,
But you just laugh hysterically
And tear my brains apart.

O taxes boastful, arrogant
You like to see me crawl,
So calm and strong you seem to be
How to make you fall?
Please hit your head and bruise your nose
Forget that I owe you,
Maybe then I’ll shake your hand
And pay you ‘fore it’s due.

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