I met when signing for my lease
The bureaucratic side of Greece –
The all-important ΑΦΜ «ah fee mee”
Your personal code for VAT:
Without it there’s no way to own
A house, a car, a mobile phone.
To get it, well you have to queue;
A patience course that’s free for you.
But meanwhile I’ve discovered that
A Greek’s a different bureaucrat
From Dutch, French, German counterparts
Who all had rigid, stony hearts.
Let’s take the permit to reside
Which I found out, when I applied,
Requires the applicant to prove
Three months elapsing since his move.
No problem once in days of yore –
With passport stamps you could keep score.
But now within the Schengen zone
It’s no one’s business but your own.
A young policeman standing by
Said that of course he knew that I
Had been there for three months indeed
Because, with hungry mouths to feed,
He moonlighted – the local bus
Was where we’d meet, the two of us.
The bureaucrat I’d come to see
Said “well, that’s good enough for me”
So BANG I had my permit stamp
And walked out with the ink still damp.
