(To tune of “I Love Paris” by Cole Porter)

I hate taxes on my earnings
I hate taxes on my haul
I hate taxes on my profit in the market
I hate taxes on the interest when I park it

I hate taxes on my efforts
On my sweat throughout the year
I hate taxes
Then, why, oh why, do I pay taxes?
The only reason is fear

Lyric © Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved



(To tune, “Donke-Schoen” by Bert Kaempfert, Kurt Schwaback and Milt Gabler, popularized by singer Wayne Newton.).

It was unforeseen
So you say
But what does that mean?

Plants are dangerous
Where Chernobyl stood
Now’s an empty neighborhood

Could you not foresee?
Three Mile Island’s still
Recent history?

Nothing’s unforeseen
Accidents occur, when nuclear
They’re very mean

We have eyes
We all have a brain
Doesn’t quite explain

 Air we breathe
Water that we drink
Is more valuable that dollars
Tell me, don’t you think?

That’s your alibi?
Is your best reply?

We’ve all seen
Humans make mistakes
And with nuclear material
Think of the stakes

One more time
Tell me unforeseen
Fukashima dies
Still as mothers scream

And here on the scene
Turkey Point is clean
So says FPL, but they won’t tell,
What’s unforeseen

What a scary dream
As radiation spreads above our heads
Soon everyone will be unseen

Lyric © 2012 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
 All rights reserved.


(To tune of “Honey Bun” from Rodgers and Hammerstein Broadway Musical Show “South Pacific).

Our favorite chum
Put down a big bet, a large sum
On the White House, bought for cash outright

A gaffe, a ho-hum
Poor Robo-Rom
As funny as used chewing gum
Pithy Robo-Rom’s a bit uptight

He flunked out of Cotillion
His instincts seem Reptilian
His smile is un-Brazilian son
It’s sprayed on, looks frayed on

He has no clue
What real folks do
So how can he help, me or you?
He won’t throw you a crumb
Hitch your fate to Robo-Rom
Yea, Right!


His platform yells conserving
The poor are undeserving
His voice sounds flat, and tells you that
This man is unnerving

Who’ll maximize
Huge Super-Pacs
While his wife drives
Two Cadillacs
If you’re rich or you’re dumb
Hitch your fate to Robo-Rom
Yea, right!

Second Refrain
He likes to fire workers
Says unemployed are shirkers
He gets his kicks, from pick up sticks
In corporate tear-jerkers

Should you play in
His campaign band
And Robo win
You’ll soon get canned
Songs of woe you will strum
Hitch your fate to Robo-Rom
Yea, Right!

Lyric © 2012 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved