Donald, may I call you Don?
Or would you prefer Mr. Trump?
Into the primaries you have been drawn
You say America is in a slump
As much as I would love to end up as your pawn
I’m afraid I’m not that much of a chump
I can hardly wait to see the dawn
You thing in the night that goes bump
Most of us just want to see you gone
You human-shaped camel’s hump
With your hair like a poorly manicured lawn
And you head like a rotting stump
Yes we cannot wait until you’ve withdrawn
You ambulatory garbage dump
What causes you to ramble on?
What makes you such a grump?
Your morals have been overdrawn
You spew vile like a septic tank pump
America’s not falling for your con
So go take a flying jump
If you insist on behaving like Satan’s spawn
I would like to sit down with a thump
And it’s your face I would like to sit upon
So that you can kiss my big, sweet rump…