Tax his cow, tax his goat,
Tax his pants, tax his coat,
Tax his crops, tax his work,
Tax his ties, tax his shirt.

Tax his tractor, tax his mule,
Teach him taxes are a rule,
Tax his oil, tax his gas,
Tax his notes, tax his cash;

Tax him good and let him know,
After his taxes he has no dough.

If he hollers, tax him more;
Tax him ’til he’s good and sore.
Tax his coffin, tax his grave,
Tax the sod in which he lays.

Put these words upon his tomb:
“Taxes drove me to my doom.”
And after he’s gone, he can’t relax;
They’ll soon be after his Inheritance Tax!

-Anonymous

60 Plus circulates the above anonymous poem on Capitol Hill and Members of Congress have placed it in the Congressional Record.