The “Dead” End. 17. 2. 2010. thanks xxxxxxxxxxxx ap
I’m supposed to pay a Death Tax,
This tax of course, when I’m dead!
Twenty Thousand Pounds is expected,
At least, that’s what this Government said.
They need it to give to “Europe”,
That’s where most of our money goes,
They take many billions off us,
What pittance we get back, goodness knows.
We are supposed to pay this new ‘death tax’,
But we ‘oldies won’t play their game,
We simply cannot afford to die,
We’ll keep living forever, just the same.
They will need to build more houses,
Especially more ‘Old People’s Homes’,
On Zimmer Frames the old will whiz past,
Shaking up other old people’s bones.
I intend to go on living it up,
That death tax I will not pay,
They bleed us dry when we’re living
They cannot have it all their own way.
I will sell up my house if I have to,
Arrange to live in it totally rent free,
Take time off to “smell the Roses”,
Using all my money ON ME!
I’m dammed if I’ll leave any money,
All my life I have paid my dues,
I will spend every “penny” before I die,
And Dear Taxman, there will be none left, for YOU.
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