Thursday, April 15, 2010


by Mac McGovern

Someone, please tell me,
if you know, where does,
all the money go?
Taxes, taxes, on everything,
Uncle Sam's coffers,
ka-ching, ka-ching.
I'm in debt over my head,
no relief in sight,
until I'm dead.

Whether at work, at play,
shopping, attending, a ball game,
it seems they want more every day

I pay in good faith,
year in, year out,
the return on this investment,
zero, or there about.

Then, come April 15th,
I live in fear,
I'm going to have to pay,
more again this year

I work very hard,
live day to day,
I look forward to when I can say,
Uncle, you get no more of my pay

Of course, when that happens,
it won't mean a thing,
he'll be at my funeral,
to tax,
my wedding ring

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