tax collection

not for a moment do we hold this true
that all the virtues are still undefiled
and the old expert still a virgin child
as pure and brilliant as the morning dew
when we emerge and place it first in view
at the first hour when sunlight is still mild
and the whole world still seems just to have smiled
we deem the universe so fresh and new
now with the pain we feel when we can see
all the long years add up to futile age
we know the promise cannot add up right
there's someone who will charge some kind of fee
and force us to pay up although we rage
since nothing that we do can hold back night