Before the United Nations Donald stood,
He was gonna show ’em, gonna tell ’em good,
All his accomplishments he was proud to state-
Modestly thinking his speech was not just good, but great.
Don smiled and waited… for the thunderous applause,
His words had caused his audience considerable pause…
Back home his rallies had rednecks cheering wall to wall,
But his clap trap didn’t move this audience to respond at all.
Then came a titter, then a giggle, then laughter uncontained,
Being the funny guy is one thing Don had never entertained,
Now the Great ‘Merican Hero’s smug smile is looking grim,
Leading the free world is no joke when the laugh’s on him.
The full moon shone down, bright and clear
As she left the pub full of cider and good cheer,
When from out of the shadows ol’ Dracula did appear
She gave out a cry as down her thigh ran a…frisson of fear.
This sure put a dampener on the nights atmosphere.
The Count slid towards her with a lecherous leer,
She feared this was her dying day as he drew near,
As his fangs grazed her neck she whispered in his ear
Bitter words no salivating vampire ever desires to hear.
Immodest confessions no fair Catholic maid could volunteer.
She has developed quite the reputation round here,
Has an accommodating nature that’s sure to endear,
Her maidenhood hadn’t withstood her sixteenth year,
She’d long laid her honor to rest, and not shed one tear.
So while she’s lying safely abed, Drac’s crying in his bier.
Good God, I find it hard to believe those who do believe
That Donald Trump is part of Gods mysterious Master plan,
Those of blind faith who found a black president impossible to conceive
Yet can find little fault in this one, Gods Right White quite imperfect man.
Any conservative will admit he’s a philanderer,
But Sweet Jesus, Donald’s making a great nation,
And doth the Good Book not say, ‘to be human is to err?’
Let’s give Don the benefit of doubt (and a liberal translation.)
How the bloody righteous paw through chapter and verse,
Praying pardon for their (play)boys less than model behaviour,
Finding any blessed reason to praise a man Beelzebub would curse;
How Divine, stumbling on such a forgiving anti-Gay-Muslim-Refugee Saviour.
It’s the final curtain for cool Cosmopolitan Bandit Burt,
The epitome of the seventies man, as your Mama can assert,
A twinkling eye, a cocked eyebrow, that mountebanks mustache-
Then and now he could elicit in the ladies a damn indecent hot flash.
Don heard reports his House was in a chaotic state,
News guaranteed to make him rail and fulminate,
So now Donald’s mulling over lie detector tests
To truly protect the priviliged Presidents interests.
Don wants a full and frank confession on record,
Either via the lie detector or preferably, water board,
And once he he finds out who is his anonymous source
It will all end in a tirade, tears, and then… in divorce?