| | New Zealand, Part One
A long time ago a man cut a track,
Ere before long he had the state on his back.
He cleared the land and turned grass into sheep,
These, less government plunder, a farmer could keep.
He discovered goldfields and raised up a nation,
But a stolen proportion yet went to taxation.
Civilisation replaced the previous stone ages,
Yet progress was accompanied by bureaucrats' cages.
Bright-minded sons went to war, gave up their lives,
Ensuring domestic monop'ly on sacrificial knifes.
But for those respectable parasites our land would be,
Freedom's ramparts on the sea.
They tape us in red and such lies they will spout,
They can't run their own lives yet order us about!
If you drive a car, they'll tax the street,
If you try to sit, they'll tax your seat.
They kill us by inches and govern by fear,
Telling us what to eat, drink, read, smoke, watch and wear!
Nothing offends a libertarian so much as the state which harms us,
Except perhaps your haughty fraternity, oh our servants who farm us!
One of these days I will be who I need to be,
And I will revolution the lot of the into the sea!
Too filthy to work, thou stooped to expropriation,
Now lamer than ever thou camest into our nation!
Rick, 7 June 2005
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