Mar-a-Lago Lullaby

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A ditty for our times to be sung to the melody of “On the Street Where You Live” by Frederick Loewe

 

I have often gone to the polls before,

But the choices in the offing all had souls before.

All at once do I feel the urge to cry

Knowing Trump has a shot and could win.

 

There are folks out there who admire the man,

Even though it’s selfish motives that inspire the man.

With each lie his nose, grows and grows and grows.

Nonetheless, there’s a chance he could win.

 

And oh, the sickening feeling

Just to know that Clinton could lose.

The overpowering feeling

That in December I may sail to Veracruz.

 

Thinking ill of him’s not a sin we’re told,

Since he lacks the moral compass of a ten-day-old.

So compose a tweet urging his retreat

To the swamp where he skulks with his kin.

 

200

© 2016 Ron Dulaney

10 comments

  1. To Quote Barry McGuire’s “Eve of Destruction”:
    “Don’t you understand, what I’m trying to say?
    And can’t you feel the fear that I’m feeling today?
    If the button is pushed, there’s no running away,
    There’ll be no one to save with the world in a grave,
    Take a look around you, boy, it’s bound to scare you, boy,
    But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
    Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.”
    When a petulant 8 year old with small hands has them on the nuclear button….

    Like

    1. I have long viewed Trump as having barely evolved from his antediluvian forebears who once populated the world’s darkest, most malodorous swamps. Bill Maher has often characterized him as the offspring of an orangutan, which I believe does great disservice not only to that proud species but to all the great apes, who are graced with intelligence, a degree of conscience, and an inherent sense of social responsibility.

      Like

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