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Election news

11/05/2017 by Webmaster

 

You may have noticed that a general election is looming. One party is talking about taxing you more; the other isn't talking about the same thing. Guess what the outcome will be?  You may know George Harrison's take on this - "Let me tell you how it will be, There's one for you, nineteen for me, 'Cause I'm the taxman, yeah, I'm the taxman. But there is another "anon" version along the same lines:-
Tax his land, tax his bed,
Tax the table at which he’s fed.
Tax his tractor, tax his mule,
Teach him taxes are the rule.
Tax his cow, tax his goat,
Tax his pants, tax his coat.
Tax his ties, tax his shirt,
Tax his work, tax his dirt.
Tax his tobacco, tax his drink.
Tax him if he tries to think.
Tax his cigars, tax his beers,
If he cries, then tax his tears.
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 ’til he has no dough.
When he screams and hollers,
Tax him some more.
Tax him ’till he’s good and sore.
Then tax his coffin, tax his grave.
Tax the sod in which he’s laid.
Put these words upon his tomb,
“Taxes drove me to my doom.”
When he’s gone, do not relax.
It’s time to apply the inheritance tax.
Many happy (election/tax) returns!

You may have noticed that a general election is looming. One party is talking about taxing you more; the other isn't talking about the same thing. Guess what the outcome will be?  You may know George Harrison's take on this - "Let me tell you how it will be, There's one for you, nineteen for me, 'Cause I'm the taxman, yeah, I'm the taxman."

But there is another "anon" version along the same lines:-

 

Tax his land, tax his bed,

Tax the table at which he’s fed.

Tax his tractor, tax his mule,

Teach him taxes are the rule.

 

Tax his cow, tax his goat,

Tax his pants, tax his coat.

Tax his ties, tax his shirt,

Tax his work, tax his dirt.

 

Tax his tobacco, tax his drink.

Tax him if he tries to think.

Tax his cigars, tax his beers,

If he cries, then tax his tears.

 

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 ’til he has no dough.

 

When he screams and hollers,

Tax him some more.

Tax him ’till he’s good and sore.

Then tax his coffin, tax his grave.

Tax the sod in which he’s laid.

 

Put these words upon his tomb,

“Taxes drove me to my doom.”

When he’s gone, do not relax.

It’s time to apply the inheritance tax.

 

Many happy (election/tax) returns!

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