Now it’s the end of December
Why do I feel so void?
It’s time for paying taxes
I am a self-employed
Time to go to my consultant office
She’s always there to relieve my pain
Sweet consultant lady, you’re my brain

Her profession is her religion
Her face is a tired life
She’s a mother, she’s a sister,
she’s my consultant wife
When it comes to the three-o-nine form
She’s got some crazy tricks to perform
Sweet consultant lady, you’re my eyes

I’ve been fined a lot of times
I’m a mess with the bills
Doesn’t matter what I do
Tax office is on my heels
And If I think I have no choice
She says: “Don’t worry, let’s rejoice”
Sweet consultant lady, you’re my voice

I’ve done my annual tax return
I have no time to relax
I have a demand for payment
of the Value Added Tax
I’ve got no tickets, nothing to declare
Filling out the three-o-three is her goal
Sweet consultant lady, you’re my soul