Tromp! Tromp! Tromp!
The feet are falling.
Soon we’ll be marching off to vote
because the dork in charge of Reps
shoved us down his rally’s steps
and yelled out that he’s rocking every
boat.
“Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!”
his voice is bawling
above his heaving heavies in the
brawl.
And beneath the stars and bars
he thinks he’s leaving us with scars
for standing up and working for his
fall.
Trump! Trump! Trump!
The first one’s calling
out to every poison in the land;
the rest have said they’ve had enough
of the clown who roughs his tough
but ends up squawking to his hand.
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