There once was a bloke named Max
Whose family would not pay their tax
He said to the sheriff
"We won't pay your tariff
So get off our friggin' backs."

The sheriff replied with a snort
"Don't care for your bloody retort.
If you're not soon paid up, I'll see that you're laid up
in jail, and that ain't no resort.

So gi' me no more a yer guff".
Then Maxwell stormed off in a huff.
"He's not getting any,
not even a penny,
That jackass! l'm calling his bluff."

He suddenly rounded a bend
And there he met up with his end
He didn't hear it humming
He didn't see it coming
The truck that belonged to his friend.

So that's how our story must go
'Cause Karma will get ya, ya know
Destiny shapes
what no-one escapes,
Though the taxman did not get his dough.

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