Miss Pussy's Parlor Songs, Part Twenty-One, by Claudette McFang

 

PART TWENTY-ONE

 

FIRE, FIRE

 

"Fire, fire! I am a liar!

I am just kidding! My fly is dryer

Now that I've pissed on those I could hire,

Browbeat, batter, drag through the mire

And, as on teevee, fire! Fire!"

 

 

BOLTON

 

Is revolting --

I feel like bolting.

 

 

TRUMP, TRUMP, TRUMP

In my pup-tent here I lie

Thinking, Donald dear, of you,
And your White and slave-built House so far away,
But these tears that fill my eyes

Are attracting lots of flies
Though I try to teach my comrades to be gay.

Chorus:

TRUMP, TRUMP, TRUMP, the boys are marching,

Worry, Wetbacks, here we come,
And beneath our Starry Flag
We shall breathe the air again
In the genocidal land that we call home.

 

 

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!

 

Didn't Georgie Boy say that?

He had a sign when he arrived 

board the ship in uniform

To remind us how he had contrived

To avoid war service in the reserves

To achieve the glory he deserves.

 

At least The Donald didn't wear

The uniform of the private school

That he attended before his hair

Turned orange so that he'd look cool

In the fruit trees of the Caribbean --

He just repeated what he had seen,

 

So now he too can be a hero

Since he, like Bush, has accomplished zero.

 

 

THE GANG

 

Trump has a thumb up his rump;

Cohen is gnawing on a bone;

Insanity, thy name is Hannity;

Comey, your mouth is foamy, but

Stormy Daniels takes on spaniels.

 

 

DONALD'S INSULTS

 

"That comic thinks insults are fine.

But the only good insults are mine!"

 

 

AGENT ORANGE

 

Donald Trump takes Agent Orange

To promote the growth of hair,

But he wants his pride to show,

So he shaves his nubbies bare.

 

SAD. VERY SAD

 

Trump now works with Giuliani.

Sad Rudy couldn't work with Ronny.