—Dorsey M. Dixon (The Dixon Brothers) 1936
You may sales tax the flour, the lard and the meat
Take the pennies 'way from me and my pals
You may sales tax everything that we have to eat
But don't put a tax on the gals
Chorus:
One cent, two cents, three cents in cash
That's the way my money goes a-spendin'
But take off my hat and hit me with a bat
If you put the sales tax on the women
Don't put the taxes on the good-lookin' girls
Although I know the pennies have to go
Well, I wouldn't have it done for a hundred or more
'Cause the boys wouldn't stand a bit of show
I love the little girls with the lovely little curls
If that is wrong, I hope I will repent
I would sure be sore and I couldn't love no more
If I had to pay the taxes as I went
That's the way it goes, Uncle Sam knows
He's just torturin' me and my pals
We would die with the blues without any shoes
If you put the sales tax on the gals
Well, I don't mean any harm when I step out at night
Happy times with the ladies I've spent
Sales taxes on the kisses just wouldn't be right
In my pockets I would never have a cent
Verse:
| I | I | I | V |
| I | I | IV – V | I |
Chorus:
| IV | I | IV | I |
| IV | I | I – V | I |