Millionaires are leaving the country
At least that’s what’s being said
The words spread to worry people like me
To fill me with fear and with dread
My jewellery collection’s still growing
The millionaire declared
I’ve got Omega’s, Breitling’s and Cartier's
But still, of the taxes I’m scared
I’m paying too much tax he then pleads
It’s a struggle getting by
I’m down to my last seven houses
The governments bleeding me dry
I’ve got income from many directions
The growth in my wealth suits me fine
But really I just want to keep it
As it’s mine, yes it’s mine, yes it’s mine
My Rolls Royce runs like a dream
My Bentley is simply sublime
Some people may think I am selfish
But these things they are mine, yes they’re mine, yes they’re mine
Thanks to my financial advisor
My money grows and it grows without end
He tells me it’s increased exponentially
That I’m making more than I could possibly spend
My friends in the media support me
After all they are from the same breed
We all want to gather more money
Which some people just see as greed
With the money also comes power
That’s something I really enjoy
Like chess pieces I can manoeuvre
Those that I choose to employ
I think I will put pen to paper
And produce a financial list
Just to see if it’s true what my FA says
That I’m making money hand over fist
But still I don’t want to pay taxes
I’ll leave that for the workers to do
Let them give funds to the state
Whilst I stay at the back of that queue
You see trust funds are really so clever
With your millions you mustn’t be lax
If you choose to use professional people
They’ll make sure you pay so little tax
The Creative Tourist (1)
I set my sight on Monaco
For an ‘oliday this year
But when I checked the prices
They came up much too dear
I looked at Venice and at Amsterdam
Where they speak single dutch
Still no matter how I tried
The prices were far too much
Lithuania and Estonia
Are far too cold for me
That’s because they’re right beside
The icy Baltic Sea
I didn’t look at Asia
For me it’s just too far
I might consider Scarborough
As I can get there in me car
I wouldn’t look at Blackpool
Huh! I’m far to posh for that
I’m not mixing with the hoi polloi
In a kiss me quickly hat
Trawling through the internet
I saw the prices did come down
But I found the very cheapest
Was Airbnb in my own home town
You see lodgings here in Bradford
Are geared towards the poor
But still I can’t afford ‘em
So I’ll stay behind me own front door
I’ll put a deckchair in the back yard
Tie me hankie in some knots
Then I’ll put it on me head
To save me ‘ead from getting ‘ot
The Creative Tourist (2)
I might just need a brolly
In case the rail comes down
Which in truth is fairly likely
In Bradford my home town
I’m sorry if I’ve bored you
You see I fantasise a lot
I never really go away
As to pee in I’ve not a pot
I did go to the corner shop
A month or two ago
I went there for an outing
As time at home goes by so slow
If you haven’t got a family
No children nor a wife
Travel fantasies can fill your mind
To brighten up your life
By Keith of Kent
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