A great verse from the anti-Roosevelt movement of the 1930s (though it seems awfully relevant today):
Tax his cow, Tax his goat;
Tax his pants, Tax his coat;
Tax his crop, Tax his work;
Tax his ties, Tax his shirt;
Tax his chew, Tax his smoke;
Teach him taxing is no joke.
Tax his tractor, Tax his mule;
Tell him, Taxing is the rule.
Tax his oil, Tax his gas;
Tax his notes, Tax his cash;
Tax him good and let him know,
That after taxes, he has no dough.
If he hollers, Tax him more;
Tax him till he’s good and sore.
Tax his coffin, Tax his grave,
Tax his sod in which he’s laid.
Put these words upon his tomb,
“Taxes drove him to his doom.”
After he’s gone, we won’t relax.
We’ll still collect inheritance tax.
