White alstroemeria

We went to have our taxes done this morning, which is always a tad depressing. Our tax person gave us a copy of a poem that one of her clients gave her, as she thought it was funny, & agreed that the taxes have gotten out of hand--I've copied it here.
Tax his tobacco, 
Tax his drink, 
Tax him if he 
Tries to think. 

Tax his cigars, 
Tax his beers, 
If he cries 
Tax his tears. 

Tax his car, 
Tax his gas, 
Find other ways 
To tax his ***. 

Tax all he has 
Then let him know 
That you won't be done 
Till he has no dough. 

Then tax his coffin, 
Tax his grave, 
Tax the sod in 
Which he's laid. 

Put these words upon his tomb, 
' Taxes drove me to my doom...' 
When he's gone, 
Do not relax, 
Its time to apply 
The inheritance tax. 

Yup. That about sums it up! :))