
A buddy friend from Sydney sent me an interesting email with a pretty taxing poem about the awful truth DownUnder. Rhymes well, short and sweet. Poor ole donkey taxed to the very limit and they truly squeezed every ounce of sweat out with the heavy load. My oh my! .
Tax his land, Tax his bed, Tax the table At which he's fed.
Tax his work, Tax his pay, He works for peanuts Anyway!
Tax his cow, Tax his goat, Tax his pants, Tax his coat.
Tax his tobacco, Tax his drink, Tax him if he Tries to think..
Tax his car, Tax his gas, Find other ways To tax his ass.
Tax all he has Then let him know That you won't be done Till he has no dough.
When he...