Mitt Romney in song, poetry, and prose
My song below dramatizes the following articles about Mitt Romney's tax shelters:
Where the Money Lives (Vanity Fair)
Mitt Romney's Cayman Island holdings complicate tax return debate (Washington Post)
Mr. Romney's Financial Black Hole (New York Times)
Mitt Romney's Tax Dodge (Rolling Stone)
The Mitt Romney Shanty
lyrics by
patoadam, completed 10/30/2012, placed in the public domain by the author
melody: "The LiveJournal Shanty" by Brooke Abbey, except for the last line of the chorus, the melody for which is here
I’m a poor confused voter, and I’d like to know
Why Mitt Romney’s taxes are so goddamn low.
So I'll sail the world over, with courage and stealth
To learn how Mitt Romney has sheltered his wealth.
So it's heave at the capstan! We’re sailing away.
(We’ll post Facebook reports at least three times a day.)
And it's haul on the halyards! Our flag is unfurled.
We sail for Mitt Romney's tax havens, all over the world.
To the warm Cayman Islands, my bold buccaneers!
Mitt has a dozen tax shelters out here.
Twelve corporations, each one is tax-free,
With assets that Mitt doesn't want us to see.
So it's heave at the capstan! We’re sailing away.
(We’ll post Facebook reports at least three times a day.)
And it's haul on the halyards! Our flag is unfurled.
We sail for Mitt Romney's tax havens, all over the world.
We'll roll down to Bermuda, and Ireland too.
I’m sure we’ll be seasick before we are through.
But his Swiss bank account may be safe from our scrutiny.
Can't sail to Geneva, not even if we mutiny.
So it's heave at the capstan! We’re sailing away.
(We’ll post Facebook reports at least three times a day.)
And it's haul on the halyards! Our flag is unfurled.
We sail for Mitt Romney's tax havens, all over the world.
Two years of tax records are all he'll provide.
I wonder just what he is trying to hide.
I'm not sure it's illegal, but sure it's a sin
To play the tax code like a damn violin.
So, it’s heave at the capstan! We're racing the clock.
We’ve got to get home soon to vote for Barack!
And it's haul on the halyards! Our flag is unfurled.
Sailing home from Mitt Romney's tax havens, all over the world.
If you enjoyed my song, you'll love The Elegant President: A Poem for Mitt Romney by Julian Gough:
It's hard to be rich, ‘cause then poor people bitch ‘bout
Our houses, our cars, and our cruisers.
When I’m king, I won’t do a thing for the whiners
In diners; I don't work for losers.
I love you because you just paid fifty grand for a plate
I wish there were more of you great guys to love in each state
Don't worry, I won't do a thing for the folk serving dinner
I'll talk like they're not even here, ‘cause I just talk to winners.
No representation without some taxation
That's what the first tea party meant.
I'm the best man that money can buy for this nation;
The poor can't afford presidents.
What we need is an elegant country for elegant folk.
Not fuckups in pickups with hiccups from drinking and dope
Who can't afford healthcare, who can't afford dinners like this
Those people aren't drowning, they're waving their communist fists.
The president’s not there to help forty seven percent.
I don't care if they starve, I don't care if they can't pay their rent
It's their own fault for borrowing money from people like us.
Trying to own cars, when God meant them to travel by bus.
I'll be an elegant president, there for the elegant few.
I'll do what you pay me to do, because I'm one of you.
If Jesus had just paid some taxes, I'd represent him
But he didn't, so fuck him, the loser can learn how to swim.
Finally, I encourage you to read An Open Letter to Candidate Romney:
You said that you think that 47% of Americans “think they are victims” ... I am not a victim. I have been beaten. I have been bullied. I have been raped. I have been addicted. I have been alone. I have been poor. I have been homeless. I have been sick and broken. I have chosen — each and every single time — to stand up and pull myself and my family out of those circumstances. I beat every one of them without any riches to aid me. I did that without any inheritance, any gifted stocks or bonds, any loans, any rich family, or any elevators for my cars. I did it because I am not a victim, I am an American.
Remember: One small vote is enough.
Where the Money Lives (Vanity Fair)
Mitt Romney's Cayman Island holdings complicate tax return debate (Washington Post)
Mr. Romney's Financial Black Hole (New York Times)
Mitt Romney's Tax Dodge (Rolling Stone)
The Mitt Romney Shanty
lyrics by
patoadam, completed 10/30/2012, placed in the public domain by the authormelody: "The LiveJournal Shanty" by Brooke Abbey, except for the last line of the chorus, the melody for which is here
I’m a poor confused voter, and I’d like to know
Why Mitt Romney’s taxes are so goddamn low.
So I'll sail the world over, with courage and stealth
To learn how Mitt Romney has sheltered his wealth.
So it's heave at the capstan! We’re sailing away.
(We’ll post Facebook reports at least three times a day.)
And it's haul on the halyards! Our flag is unfurled.
We sail for Mitt Romney's tax havens, all over the world.
To the warm Cayman Islands, my bold buccaneers!
Mitt has a dozen tax shelters out here.
Twelve corporations, each one is tax-free,
With assets that Mitt doesn't want us to see.
So it's heave at the capstan! We’re sailing away.
(We’ll post Facebook reports at least three times a day.)
And it's haul on the halyards! Our flag is unfurled.
We sail for Mitt Romney's tax havens, all over the world.
We'll roll down to Bermuda, and Ireland too.
I’m sure we’ll be seasick before we are through.
But his Swiss bank account may be safe from our scrutiny.
Can't sail to Geneva, not even if we mutiny.
So it's heave at the capstan! We’re sailing away.
(We’ll post Facebook reports at least three times a day.)
And it's haul on the halyards! Our flag is unfurled.
We sail for Mitt Romney's tax havens, all over the world.
Two years of tax records are all he'll provide.
I wonder just what he is trying to hide.
I'm not sure it's illegal, but sure it's a sin
To play the tax code like a damn violin.
So, it’s heave at the capstan! We're racing the clock.
We’ve got to get home soon to vote for Barack!
And it's haul on the halyards! Our flag is unfurled.
Sailing home from Mitt Romney's tax havens, all over the world.
If you enjoyed my song, you'll love The Elegant President: A Poem for Mitt Romney by Julian Gough:
It's hard to be rich, ‘cause then poor people bitch ‘bout
Our houses, our cars, and our cruisers.
When I’m king, I won’t do a thing for the whiners
In diners; I don't work for losers.
I love you because you just paid fifty grand for a plate
I wish there were more of you great guys to love in each state
Don't worry, I won't do a thing for the folk serving dinner
I'll talk like they're not even here, ‘cause I just talk to winners.
No representation without some taxation
That's what the first tea party meant.
I'm the best man that money can buy for this nation;
The poor can't afford presidents.
What we need is an elegant country for elegant folk.
Not fuckups in pickups with hiccups from drinking and dope
Who can't afford healthcare, who can't afford dinners like this
Those people aren't drowning, they're waving their communist fists.
The president’s not there to help forty seven percent.
I don't care if they starve, I don't care if they can't pay their rent
It's their own fault for borrowing money from people like us.
Trying to own cars, when God meant them to travel by bus.
I'll be an elegant president, there for the elegant few.
I'll do what you pay me to do, because I'm one of you.
If Jesus had just paid some taxes, I'd represent him
But he didn't, so fuck him, the loser can learn how to swim.
Finally, I encourage you to read An Open Letter to Candidate Romney:
You said that you think that 47% of Americans “think they are victims” ... I am not a victim. I have been beaten. I have been bullied. I have been raped. I have been addicted. I have been alone. I have been poor. I have been homeless. I have been sick and broken. I have chosen — each and every single time — to stand up and pull myself and my family out of those circumstances. I beat every one of them without any riches to aid me. I did that without any inheritance, any gifted stocks or bonds, any loans, any rich family, or any elevators for my cars. I did it because I am not a victim, I am an American.
Remember: One small vote is enough.