A poem about Donald Trump. I pity him really because he obviously has very low self-esteem.
You can sing this to some of “Nellie the Elephant” if you want. In fact, I’ve had a go, and here it is:
A nightmare that I can’t wake from,
His brain-dead supporters are chanting his name:
“Trump, Trump, Trump!”
Americans everywhere, hang your heads,
What the fuck are you thinking?
He may be quite witless but I am scared shitless
‘Cos he’s got in.
The hair on his head’s appalling,
Roadkill, I think.
He’s so much hate for his balding pate
He needs to see a shrink,
‘Cos he is full of self-loathing and lonely, too,
And acting out his frustrations.
He hits that red button we’re carbonised mutton
So sort it out.