© 1993 by Marian Rothe
The loss he took he did compound;
He thought he was on solid ground.
He padded his costs and padded his liens
And lowered his profits and lowered his means;
Tripled dependents more than by three,
Not honest, not truthful at all was he.
He thought he’d fooled old Uncle Sam
Till he discovered he was in a jam.
So now as he dwells in jail cell small
He wishes that he’d declared it all.