Christmas approaches and we look to the sky
For a shining star to follow- but we get a wise guy,
We look for some sign to to celebrate a saviour’s birth
And we see a dolt in Washington arranging hell on earth.
The Prez, with his customary diplomatic grace
Wishes to move his embassy to a happier place;
Today even Solomon would’ve wisely stuck in Tel Aviv,
In Jerusalem Don won’t believe the welcome he’ll receive.
There will be wild celebrations in half of the town
But once the embassy settles in they’ll settle down,
Unless Don has a change of mind or a change of heart
A grand ground-to-air fireworks display is bound to start.
There are a few who look on from the Arab quarter
With long held grievances, whose fuse grows ever shorter,
From the movers and shakers Don gets their eternal thanks,
For those looking out of place, it’s yet more never-ending tanks.
A thought entered Donald’s fine entrepreneurial mind,
‘Why can’t the underdeveloped wilds of Utah be mined?’
Some like-minded friends took interest in what was spoken;
Who cares if a few old treaties or ancient artifacts get broken?
You know the drill,
They dragged out the rig;
Went from mountain to molehill
In one fruitless dig
Once every last inch has been turned over and no pay dirt found
Trust Donald to find these pitiful piles of dirt ARE holy ground,
Now he says ‘We’re leaving you, your land, and the mess.’
Is there no end to big Chief Donald’s largesse?
How Donald Trumps siren call rang out-
Hills was guilty, of something, anything, ain’t no doubt,
No need to fact check-
She looks a likely suspect-
‘Lock her up, lock her up!’
And his phalanx of feeb- free thinking patriots took up the shout.
Now how deathly quietly they turn and listen to hear if Flynn
Receives word from Don on high to speak no sin,
As the dots begin to connect
Might Don speak to Mike direct?
Do something, anything to shut him up,
Sternly advise him to take a deep breath and…… hold… it… in.
This week it’s been in a dusty little Texas town,
There half a congregation were gunned down,
Another week, another maniac with a gun,
And next week there will be another one.
Our betters wring their hands once more,
Much like last week, and the week before,
Another abomination, another crazy crime,
But DON’T mention gun control at this sad time.
Soon in Sutherland Springs they’ll bury their dead,
A stirring never-to-be-forgotten speech will be read,
But thinking a lesson’s been learned would be a mistake-
Not with Freedom and a high-powered Amendment at stake.
Our fine leader wears a face wreathed in sadness
But he shows no will or want to rein in the madness,
So, next week when some gung-ho gun nut goes insane
We’ll send our condolences and hopes and prayers- again.
Ashen faced Don was devastated to hear
His once ‘excellent guy’, his pal Papadopolous
Had not stayed shtum, he had spoken
To the FBI, and Bob, and out of turn;
This had left Don f… furiously cross,
And Damn near heart-broken.
Two things had ‘conspired’
To cause a tiny cardiac infraction;
George, that little bottom-feeding sucker
Had been tapped by the FBI, but had he been wired?
Had there been talk of an overseas bank transaction?
Cause enough for both heart flutter and sphincter pucker?
No, there was no heart attack that I know of. You gotta have one, for a start.
‘My NRA comrades-in-arms, times are fraught,
Rally to this call to alms, hand us your support,
A certain someone’s turned to Vegas as a last resort
And left us with the repercussions and a nasty report.
So, with wounds still raw and feelings overwrought
Now it’s time to practice what our forefathers taught,
To cherish old traditions for which they slaved and fought,
NOW is not the time to talk Control, perish (ahem) the thought.
Now you take your time to reflect, maintain silence and comport-
As the painful headlines fade, the peoples memory grows short;
Then we’ll be spendin’ time at Congress and the Supreme Court,
Every gun totin’ donation helps prove justice can be bought.’