Ode To The Welfare State
---------
Father, must I go to work?
No, my lucky son.
We’re living now on Easy Street
On dough from Washington.
We’ve left it up to Uncle Sam,
So don’t get exercised.
Nobody has to give a damn—
We’ve all been subsidised.
But if Sam treats us all so well
And feeds us milk and honey,
Please, daddy, tell me what the hell
He’s going to use for money.
Don’t worry, bub, there’s not a hitch
In this here noble plan—
He simply soaks the filthy rich
And helps the common man.
But, father, won’t there come a time
When they run out of cash
And we have left them not a dime
When things will go to smash?
My faith in you is shrinking, son,
You nosy little brat;
You do too damn much thinking, son,
To be a Democrat.
This poem appeared in the New York Daily News on November 4, 1949
Upload photo
Would you look at a profile that doesn't have photos?
Probably not! Upload a photo for others to be interested.
- Higher position in search results!
- Users with pictures get 10 times more responses in their messages
- Most people only contact those with pictures
Jenny
Lina
Anna
Jessica
Dony