Ode To The Welfare State! Poem by Robert Edgar Burns

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 build a dam,
We’ve all been subsidized.

But if Sam treats us all so well
And feeds us milk and honey,
Please, Daddy, tell me what the heck
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 all 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 nosey little brat!
You do too darn much thinking,
To be called a Democrat!