(Apologies to Edgar Allen Poe)
Tear the envelopes, read the bills-
What a world of melancholy their advent instills!
Oh they stink, stink, stink,
In my icy grip of fright!
While the stars revolve, I think,
How the hell I'll eat and drink
With my bank balance so light;
They are slime, slime, slime,
Those relentless billing grime,
With their total tabulation that so maliciously swells
In the bills, bills, bills, bills,
Bills, bills, bills-
For the jingling coins demanded by the bills.