Unto Caesar

Two suits loitered by a shiny gate,
the crabbit old geezer made 'em wait.
'Lookin' for someone, he's done gone
ain't nothin' here, yer too damn' late.'

'Listen, Pops, doncha unnerstand?
We kin get numbers from Swit-zer-land.
That boy's here, let us in, c'mon!'
The geezer raised a rheumatic hand.

'Cain't letcha in, ain't'cha got no paper?
It's a busy time, won't'cha come back later?'
The old man sniffed, put his glasses on,
lit a long candle with a blue taper.

A briefcase was opened and papers waved.
The geezer said, 'Have you been saved?
Are you seeking to right something wrong?'
'S'why we're here, the law be praised,

'We're holding the guy as legally bound
for all the loopholes the churches found.
Tain't death but taxes touch everyone -
cud'ya just tell Jesus the IRS come?'