The Accountant's Ode to Spring |
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Debit the rain
but don't complain; 'Tis spring upon the land. Accrue a bird; the snow's deferred; The flowers are at hand. The sun's replete with credits sweet; Our fees with song do soar. The taxman's here with notions queer, So now deduct some more. Rejoice! Rejoice! with good strong voice, But don't forget thy vow To ask thyself, when counting pelf Dewey, Cheatham, & Howe? February 1980 |
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