There was a little lady, Living down the block
She had a little savings plan, Until it all got lost
She went up to the gov’ner, Said “You’re taxing me to death!”
He said, “You best be quiet, Or I’ll tax your dying breath!”


Who’s got the matches? And who’s got to learn
Let’s play a little fiddle, and watch it all burn
Who’s got the gasoline? It’s really my turn
To play a little fiddle, and watch it all burn


There were some little children, Living by their means.
They really did have nothing, Pa’d lost it all, it seems.
They sat there in the corner, And cried themselves to sleep.
The man from Old Chicago, Had taken all their dreams

There was a sweet young family, Tryin’ to make ends meet
They had a little baby, Crawlin’ ‘round their feet
The man he came a-knockin’, Demanded, “ Let me in!”
He said, “You know you owe. Fill my pockets. Let’s begin!”


Who’s got the matches? And who’s got to learn
Let’s play a little fiddle, and watch it all burn
Who’s got the gasoline? It’s really my turn
To play a little fiddle, and watch it all burn


There was an older gentleman, His life spent in service
He’d fought the Huns to Kingdom-Come, He opened up the beaches
The man he came a-knockin’, Said, “All you have is really mine.
You want to see a doctor? You’d better get in line!”

There was a group of people, Who wanted one small thing.
To celebrate their freedom, Be left alone to their own means.
The gov’ner came a-knockin, “I only do what’s best for you.
I’ll take your choice, consume your soul, And eat up all that Freedom!”


Who’s got the matches? And who’s got to learn
Let’s play a little fiddle, and watch it all burn
Who’s got the gasoline? It’s really my turn
To play a little fiddle, and watch it all burn