Home, James

The limos have changed, but the people are the same.

Home, James

 

By Elton Camp

 

The usual hallmark of the one percent

Is that by chauffeured limo they went

 

If Astor, Rockefeller or Vanderbilt

You knew they were loaded to the hilt

 

When they were ready to leave the scene

They loaded into a waiting limousine

 

“Home, James,” is what they would say

It must be such fun to get to do that way

 

Limos now are nicer with different name

But those who ride in the back are the same

 

They have more money than they can spend

And only to other millionaires are they friend

 

I just wonder how much income tax they pay

Or if they get out of most of it by some way

 

President Obama seems to think they do

And, as far as I can know, it might be true