I'm the Taxman

Got my bi-annual town tax bill sitting here on the table.
I think it would make a nice paper airplane, including the envelope.
I've got the money to pay it, no problem.
I wonder where all of this tax money goes, anyway.
I bet the vast majority goes into somebody's bank account.

Just what the hell is this shit we work all our lives for, anyway?
What is money, exactly?
I think the days where a dollar bill was actually a handy way to carry around a dollar's worth of gold or silver are long gone.
To me, it seems like it's just some silly paper that everyone agrees is worth something.
The guys at the top of the world's money system are probably sitting back chuckling at how stupid the rest of the world is, working their lives away for this silly paper.

A lot of times, it's not even silly paper with green ink and a dead president on it.
It can be just information sent by wire from one bank to another.
The money exists only in the computer memory.

I guess that this silly shit called money is just some crap that we've been taught is something we need and have to work our whole lives for.
We need it.
We need it to simply survive.
To pay those taxes.
We're taught it's worth dying for.
It's worth damaging your health for.
It's worth thinking about it 24/7.
It's worth planning and scheming for.
It's worth wrecking somebody's life for.

It makes me want to puke a lot of the time.
I got a big, fat wad of it in my wallet right now, and I really couldn't care much less about it, anymore.
You want it?

Off to jerk,
-John