There comes a time for every one,
When income taxes must be done,
When we must face this awful mess,
Catering to the IRS.

I hope that someone understands,
Their rules are quite like rubber bands,
That stretch until they almost break,
But that's the form rules often take.

The tax code can't be understood,
I'd follow it if I just could.
Its ninety volumes are too much.
I need some help. I need a crutch.

And so I pay some CPA,
To make that headache go away.
But now I find that he might be,
Lost. Befuddled just like me.

However, I have found an out,
Cause CPAs still pack a clout.
If they sign off as well as me,
Chances are, I'll get home free.

It isn't really what they know.
It's just that they can always show,
That CPA behind their name,
Implying they have learned the game.

If the IRS makes me a wreck,
And starts to twist me by the neck
"Dear auditor,"  I'll say, "Please check.
"He's responsible by heck."

(c) 2005 Henry L. Lefevre