For Saint Paddy's day, he is no longer on the Angels, he wore green for the Red Sox this morning and for John Lackey, here is our Irish Curse for The Benedictine Punk Himself...
Tax his tractor, tax his mule; tell him, taxing is the rule.
Tax his oil, tax his gas, tax his notes, tax his cash
Tax him good and let him know, that after taxes, he has no dough.
If he hollers, tax him more; tax him till he's good and sore.
Tax his coffin, tax his grave, tax his sod in which he's laid.
Put these words upon his tomb, "Taxes drove him to his doom."
Once he's gone, we won't relax. We'll still collect inheritance tax.