Tax his planet,
Tax his bed,
Tax the table
At which he's fed.

Tax his bantha,
Tax his mule,
Teach him taxes
Are the rule.

Tax his blaster,
Tax his boat,
Tax his pants,
Tax his coat.

Tax his ties,
Tax his shirt,
Tax his work,
Tax his dirt.

Tax his deathsticks,
Tax his drink,
Tax him if he
Tries to think.

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

Tax his speeder,
Tax his gas,
Find other ways
To tax his ass

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

When he screams and hollers,
Then tax him some more,
Tax him till
He's good and sore.

Then tax his coffin,
Tax his grave,
Tax the pyre on
Which he's laid.

Put these words
upon his tomb,
" Taxes drove me
to my doom..."

And when he's gone,
He still cant relax,

The bastards will be after the inheritance tax!