Into each life a little rain must fall
And for Donny it has begun to spit,
He can’t get his way and get his wall,
Aww, poor babe, Don can’t get over it.
When it’s the rich privileged life you live,
Of having it made, and always being obeyed,
When it’s always take take take and never give
Don’t tell Don to take lemons and make lemonade.
Don asks for nothing more
Than to simply have his way,
So off he goes, and slams the door-
Left, and gone with nothing good to say.
But it is not Don’s way to quietly sit and pout,
To sob in silence, save for the tears sad patter patter,
And so, in true tantrumpian fashion Don lets it all out-
Taking all that crap against his wall ain’t no piddling matter.
Today is the day the Great War ended,
It’s been one hundred years to the day,
On the bloody fields a peace descended,
Under those fields thousands molder away.
The world was back at war twenty years later,
More fathers and sons gone to eternal rest
One world war’s toll was bad, Two was greater,
One losing leader could not accept second best.
The most evolved on Gods earth are still learning,
Brave soldiers still march into fading memory,
In fields the whole world over are old soldiers turning
At the thought of honour, glory and empty victory?
Omarosa was once Don’s dear and trusted adviser,
So what is it she’s done to make him despise her?
Well, since she’s been fired shes written a tell-all book,
A record of the colorful conversations in which he partook.
She says he used the nasty word, he denies all such dialogue
And now they’re rolling in the gutter fighting like cat and dog,
There sure ain’t no love lost between these old erstwhile friends
As manners go down the drain, into the swamp decorum descends.
Again the sly old dog digs into his trusty grab-bag of dirty tricks,
Don knows of old how to put the squeeze on low, lying chicks-
Yet his catastrophic brush with Bush on the bus gives him pause-
Best hope his big bad bark will cause her to withdraw her claws.
As Ivanka frenziedly re-edits every episode in ‘The Apprentice’
Shifty-eyed Ms Huckabee says Omarosa is non compos mentis,
But parroting weasel words leaves Huckabee unutterably sad,
She’s found it’s the old hound who is utterly barking mad.
The President has been known to push reason a little far,
But his idea for a proof of purchase ID is beyond bizarre,
With every single purchase, in every dime store
Flashing the cash won’t be enough anymore;
Don wants you to have papers on you to show who you are.
Will Walmart put you up agin the wall if you’ve no ID card?
Will the cashier at Target treat you like a border guard?
If Donald can only bend Congress to his peculiar cant
Every ‘Merican businesses business will be to be vigilant.
Still, a few survive who hope Dons plan remains ill-starred…
Those who recall with vividity loved faces long since since passed,
Who knew those ‘innocent’ ID papers meant your fate was cast,
Back in the day when a Star of David upon your sleeve
Meant only a painful few would be left to eternally grieve.
And, now to pray that even Don can learn from the past.
Vlad To The Bone. (Apologies to George Thorogood.)
When two princes amongst men met up in Helsinki
Both promised, vowed, swore a swear with extended pinky
To put aside that old veil of dark secrecy, so deep, black and inky;
If Vlad’s pants look uncomfortably hot, don’t Dons seem a whiff stinky?
In a most comradely fashion the two privately conversed,
When they emerged into the light, all dark clouds dispersed,
Donald smiling dimly,Vladimir’s smile smug, satisfied, fit to burst,
How did Vlad contrive to convince Don to put ‘Meric- err… Russia First?
‘Crazy Jarrod is what they all said,
The lies in that f… fake newspaper I read!
This is all their fault, they made me see red,
And now all over this paper my story’s spread.’
How my grievances hit the front page,
Jarrod, famous, is standing centre stage,
My word being ignored was the real outrage
So I punctuated my point with a twelve gauge.
Back to my safe secure cell I’m silently led,
There to to contemplate my sins on my single bed,
Oh, to say I’m sane or blame the ‘voices’ in my head?
Option One leaves the NRA legal team in mortal dread.
(This is not meant to be flippant, its more with a sense of weary resignation.)
It’s amazing what the Supreme Court can achieve
When the last vestige of moderation takes his leave,
Whatever dour sour pick Don picks the Court will Rightly receive
Their full complement of five God (and Don) fearing Sons of Eve.
Don’s impious Muslim travel ban bias is easy to perceive
So it’s a particularly ‘Merican God to whom they will cleave,
But if you accept a virgin can miraculously spontaneously conceive
It does leave this peculiar Presidents pretences easier to believe.