WHY CAN’T THEY LOSE MY FILE?

The crash of Lois Lerner’s IRS computer and resultant loss of e-mails concerning the Section 501(c) (4) review process controversy, makes me think how nice it would be were IRS to lose my file.

WHY CAN’T THEY LOSE MY FILE?
(To tune of “Teenager in Love,” by Doc Pomus and Mort Schuman, for the hit recording by Dion and the Belmonts)

They can’t find Lerner’s e-mails
Wonder how can that be?
If they have lost that female’s
Why can’t they misplace me?
Each night I ask the Gods with a smile
If they’re so flummoxed, why can’t they lose my file?

They always give me trouble
My friends at IRS
If I was in their rubble
I’d worry so much less
Each night I ask the Gods with a smile
If they’re so flummoxed, why can’t they lose my file?

I’d pay no taxes.
Not dread this fear.
My brain relaxes
Just to think I’d disappear

I dream in all my slumber
They’ll lose my SSN
Then I would have no number
And they’re just number men
Each night I ask the Gods with a smile
If they’re so flummoxed, why can’[t they lose my file?

Lyric © 2014 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

PUT A BUCK IN YOUR POCKET, AND GIVE ONE TO UNCLE SAM

And here’s another repeat of my April 15th anthem to all tax filing procrastinators who need a stiff drink before dropping their returns in the mailbox.

PUT A BUCK IN YOUR POCKET, AND GIVE ONE TO UNCLE SAM
(To the tune, “That’s One for My Baby, and One More For the Road,” by Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer)

Set ‘em up Steve
It’s April the fifteenth, tax filing eve
I’ve got the form here
And need a little booze to loosen the fear
For this line where it shows
How much one owes
Put me on edge, “damn!”
You put a buck in your pocket,
And give one to Uncle Sam

Now don’t get me wrong
All my patriotic feelings run strong
The fervor feels nice
But wish that could feel it
For half of the price
It’s like you’d offer a meal
But not if you feel
They would hog the whole ham
You put a buck in your pocket
And give one to Uncle Sam

Where’s it all going?
The government keeps growing
It just grows and it grows
We keep on sowing
Without ever knowing
Where it all goes

Well that does it Steve
The post office is closing
So I’ve got to leave
Thanks for the cheer
I probably will see you
This time next year
That is, assuming that I’m
Not serving some time
If I get in a tax jam
Put a buck in my pocket
And give none to Uncle Sam.

You put a buck in your pocket
And good luck with Uncle Sam

Lyric © 2013, 2014 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

 

WE’RE DRINKING TO A BIG REFUND

Here’s a repeat of another tax season favorite.

WE’RE DRINKING TO A BIG REFUND
(To tune of, “White Christmas,” by Irving Berlin)

We’re drinking to a big refund
Just like the ones we had last year
Been through tax instructions
Need large deductions
A tax return to bring good cheer

We’re drinking to a big refund
Just gave our CPAs the gig
Here’s to Fate and Fortune, a swig
Now may all our tax refunds be big.

We’re drinking to a big refund
To pay off credit cards we owe
After year-long spending
Sales never-ending
We need a miracle to show

We’re drinking to a big refund
One that won’t land us in the brig
Uncle Sam don’t be Captain Quigg
See that all our tax refunds are big

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved.

 

 

 

I HATE TAXES

Just about now those who’ve learned they owe taxes with their tax filing are questioning the ability of their preparer and cursing the yolk of government spending.  Thus, I’m republishing a post that originally appeared on March 29, 2012 but grows ever more relevant

I HATE TAXES
(To the 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 © 2011 Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

 

 

 

IRS

Hearing from IRS is rarely delightful. A letter from IRS causes psychological trauma. An IRS Revenue Agent once told me, only half-jokingly, that she becomes apprehensive every time she receives her payroll check in an IRS envelop. With refunds now largely remitted digitally, correspondence form IRS will almost certainly carry some unpleasantness to your doorstep. Thus, the lament in this post.

IRS
(To tune of “Night and Day” by Cole Porter)

IRS
Letters I fear
On an envelope I know that only bad news will bear
Ones I read, “I’m Really Scared”
Knowing there is income I’ve not declared
You bring me stress
IRS

IRS
Leave me alone
All the money I’d invested in that shelter is blown
Now if more tax you assess
You will leave me in a state of undress
Finis’ Noblesse
IRS

IRS
Why is it so to speak?
That a child you’re waylaying,
Who’s been playing, Hide and Seek

If I go to jail, no foul,
At least I’ll get three meals and a towel
For that God bless
IRS

Lyric © 2011, 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

 

 

GETTING TO KNOW YOU AT IRS

GETTING TO KNOW YOU AT IRS
(To tune of “Getting to Know You,” by Rodgers and Hammerstein, from Broadway musical “The King and I”).

Getting to know you,
Getting to know more about you.
Letting you know you,
Are in our view

Getting to know when,
You earn a nice fee or interest.
With a keen interest,
We’re watching you.

When you are filing,
Making you feel quite uneasy.
Doing it so you,
Pay more not less

Haven’t you noticed?
Everything you do is noticed.
We have computers, humming a wry song,
Tracking you in the tax throng,
At IRS

Lyric © 2011 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

THEY TOOK MY HOME IN SAN FRANCISCO

THEY TOOK MY HOME IN SAN FRANCISCO
(To tune of “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” by George Cory & Douglas Cross, recorded and made famous by Tony Bennett (Columbia Records, 1962))

They took my home in San Francisco
For taxes owed I didn’t pay
Been riding little cable cars
Because they took my cars
My bank accounts
Had large amounts
Now who counts?

I lived the life in San Francisco
Now from the bridge into the bay
I’ll jump, tell IRS
Keep San Francisco
I’ve filed my last return today

Lyric © 2011 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
Previously appeared in American Bar Association Section of Taxation News Quarterly, Tax Bites, Summer 2012

 

SMILE NRA

One of the difficult aspects of U.S. tax law for foreign persons to understand is how they become accidental U.S. tax residents.  Even those here without a Green Card on non-immigration visas, can be required in any given year to file a U.S. tax return on the regular Form 1040 (as opposed to Form 1040 NR) reporting and paying U.S. tax on worldwide income, not just U.S. source income; and, required to file information returns about non-U.S. based assets and income.  It happens if they are present in the U.S. for too many days over a three-year look-back test period. This post expresses the surprise and chagrin of those caught in this trap for the unwary.

 SMILE NRA
(To tune of, “Smile” by Charles Chaplin from the silent movie “Modern Times” (1936) with lyrics added in 1954 by John Turner & Geoffrey Parsons)

Smile, while we classify you
Smile, though our laws shanghai you
Just yesterday, NRA*
Not today

You’ve been here, too long without leaving
Where, dawdling leads to grieving
When days above 182
Accrue

Sore? No use in complaining
Your CPA’s explaining
Now for returns, you must gear
Every year

Paying tax on your world-wide income
Taxed, feeling like a victim
But watch your gift tax domicile
And try to smile

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

* NRA is a Non-resident Alien who would file Form 1040 NR only if he or she had U.S. source income.

4 MILLION WORDS

The U.S. Internal Revenue Code (Code) is said to contain 4 million words (See, “Taming the tax doe beast,” by George Will, Washington Post). There are 884,421 words in Shakespeare’s 43 works (www.opensourceshakespeare.org/stats/).  Which is more worthy of its wordiness?  Tax reform is sorely needed.

4 MILLION WORDS

(To the tune of folk song, “500 miles,” by Hedy West, recorded by many including The Journeymen and Peter Paul and Mary)

Try to read the Code my son
You’d be dead before you’re done
It would take a life to run
4 million words

Words that no one understands
Try and you’d throw up your hands
No one begged for or demands
4 million words

4 million words, 4 million words
To enact 4 million words
Breeds a fact that is absurd
4 million words

What brings dread? What brings fear?
I would rather read Shakespeare
Must we deal with every year?
4 million words?

With each tax return you file
Words are added by the mile
Stir that cauldron of tax bile
4 million words

4 million words, 4 million words
Do we need 4 million words?
Nay, ‘twas politics that spurred
4 million words

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

TAXITIS BLUES

This post is dedicated to habitual non-filers who procrastinate and fail to submit an annual tax return by the prescribed due date for filing.

TAXITIS BLUES
(To traditional blues riff)

Verses
I’ve got a bad case of taxitis
My stomach’s tied up in a knot
The doctor says it’s not colitis
But a tax ailment that I’ve got
I haven’t filed my tax return
The worry is making my stomach churn

I could have filed for an extension
Just didn’t have the bucks to pay
Now to my wife I dare not mention
That I have missed tax filing day
She wouldn’t like that sort of news
She’d aggravate these mean tax blues

Bridge
Oh Well I’ve tried psychology
The doctors told me to confess
I’ve looked into biology
Learned my whole system is a mess
Need I explain taxology?
“Everyone’s scared to death,
Of the IRS”

Verse
I’ve got a bad case of taxitis
Worse than I’ve ever had before
It pains me more than tendonitis
Afraid of every knock at my door
Fearing it could be the tax collector
I can’t handle the stress anymore

Refrain
Feel like a criminal caught in the crime
Next year, I swear, to file on time

© 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved