(To the tune of “America” by Simon and Garfunkle)

♩

Let us be losers, we’ll marry all fortunes together
Taxes on real estate, beer, and on blogs

So we taxed each pack of cigarettes
Venezuela-like
And set out to knock off the middle class

♩

“Gatsbys,” I called them, as we boarded up downtown Pittsburgh
“Revenue seems like a stream to me now.”

We took our pages of tax hikes to Washington
And we’ve come to loot all America

♩

Laughing at the rubes
Playing games
In their faces.
She said the man in the gabardine suit looked alt-right
I said, “That’s too bad, his audit shows really high income.”

♩

Taxes more vigorous . . .
I think there’s one on a raincoat.
We hiked the last one an hour ago.
So I looked into usury, and she read a 1040.
As demands rose over our cash supply…

♩

“Fascism costs,” I said, though I knew we were slipping;
“Coffers empty and aching, and I don’t know why”
Count all the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike:
They’re all taxed to fund our America
Income? Good luck, America
Outflow, well good luck, America

♩ ♩ ♩♩ ♩♩