The king.
Like, oh my god it’s POTUS
Now he has lots of hair
Coiffured and parted eighteen ways
Why, it goes everywhere.
Some say it’s made from shredded wheat
Some say a plastic mould
An ancient fabled fleece perhaps
You know — the one of gold
Surrounded by the family
All talented and bright
They’ve come to end the misery
Turn darkness into right (Yes sir)
A family of plasticine
A bright satsuma glow
His wifes name isn’t Ida
And nor is she a ho
Conducting all their business
In their glin tin golden tower
The Trump-team been assembled
Sharing out the power
to sons and shiny daughters
and pappy is the boss
A bigot here a tycoon there
Corporate goons and dross
Mexicans and Mozz lims
The Don he hates them all
And to keep them off our sacred land
He’s gonna rect a wall (Thass right)
He says he’ll build it sturdy
To block the hombres way
But it aint gonna cost a dime
Coz Mexicos gonna pay.
Bigoted embarrassment
Or symbol of the right
O’limpic standard charlatan
Or star so spangly bright
Leader of the free world
Co-mander in Chief
Billionaire and businessman
Or god-damn pussy thief
From Cletus down in Tenessee
To Hank in Illinois
They voted for the Trumpman
And how it brings them joy
to see the US great again
Restore some god-damn pride
But things will sho turn ugly tho
When it turns out he lahd
With camo smocks-n- gunz-n-sh*t
They all load up the truck
haul-ass it up to DeeCee
Track down that yankee fnck
Cletus takes a huntn-knife
The Don squeals like a pig
And begs and blubs and offers cash to spare his golden wig.
But ol Cletus he just workin now and calmly says the prayer
And with a proud God Bless America
he takes some bloodied hair.
They’ll member him in Austin
and down in Baton Rouge
The orange dude with piggy eyes
Perhaps they’ll sing the blues
bout the fella in the tower, the guy with all the bling
Not content with all he had, just had to be
The king.
[Post edited 21 Jan 2017 14:11]
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