Beat the devil..A Poem by TomAll ye in strife take note
Old Morris McHugh works for the revenue
makes sure all working folk pay taxes, so loves his job, most proficient the more he aquires, the more he climaxes Whatever folk earn, he'll gleefully intern this spurious man devoid of a heart, mean Morris McHugh, loves to tax you money quaffing official, hard to outsmart But I work the system, much to his chagrin he can stuff tax, where sun don't shine, a failsafe plan, zero tax goes to that man assisted by my chickens and grunting swine I told the old crank, no money in my bank so can't be taxed if earnings are nil eggs and bacon for sale, cash on the nail stashed under mattress, thus no tax bill And should Mr McHugh, visit my home, no. 22 he may accidently fall into a vat of rye, be ground up mushy, fed to hens, pigs unfussy hence no body, no crime, corpus delicti! ( corpus delicti - the body of evidence that constitute the offence; the objective proof that a crime has been committed (sometimes mistakenly thought to refer to the body of a homicide victim) © 2024 TomAuthor's Note
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