Trumpy the conman by Raoul Izzard

Trumpy the conman was a whiskey sour soul,
with his daddy’s wealth and an orange tan,
and two tiny little hands.

Trumpy the conman, was a fairytale, they say.
He was made of show, but the people knew
that his lies would melt away.

There must have been some magic in those pills
that Nursey gave,
for when they made him swallow, he began to build a wall!

Oh, Trumpy the conman was as wired as he could be;
and the people say he can nearly speak,
just the same as you and me.

Trumpy the conman knew his time was running out,
so he said, “Let’s bust this whole country up.
We’ll make truth and lies the same.”

Down to the senate, a gold pen cocked in his hand,
chaos here and there as he wielded power
stopping aid and spreading hate:

A cut for his cronies as he put
off the big day;
pushing nuclear war, dirty fuel, and guns when he heard a holler, “Stop!”

Trumpy the conman was led off in chains and cuffs,
how he cried wide-eyed,’ “folks, it’s all fake news,  
as they threw his ass in jail.”

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