Treasure islands
By Parson Thru
- 1313 reads
“X” marks the spot
Yonder lies the plot
To keep from prying taxmen’s eyes
The booty that we’ve got
The art of our enchanted isle
The soil of our dominions
A place to hide for evermore
Our clients’ stolen millions
Our message isn’t one of sense
We don’t appeal to reason
We only seek to hoard our wealth
To argue would be treason
Our little island hideaways
Must never come to light
So we demonise the taxman
Call the riff-raff to the fight
Let’s hear it for the underdog
Who rode his luck this far
And can count in times of need
Upon his Jolly Johnnie Tar
Bring the ship about lads
Roll the cannon to their ports
Offer up a broadside
Then fuck off and deliver pizzas on your scooter for a living
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Comments
very true & very sad
Very true and very sad. Is there nothing we can do against this-- progress? Money talks bullsh-it walks.
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