Biden’s head is full of plugs.
Some say he needs memory drugs.
But he’s getting the black vote,
hanging on Obama’s coat.
Wait ’til Donald roasts his son,
puts him on a Hunter bun.
“Oh, Burisma!” he’ll erupt.
“So bad. So sad. So corrupt.”
Joe might call him a damned fool.
But to Trump, that’s just old school.
He’ll use all means underhanded
to make sure “Sleepy” is branded.
He’ll go after family ties,
hoping that Joe breaks and cries.
In a fight behind the gym,
Trump would cheat and probably win.
Razor wire on his belt buckles,
pepper spray and gold brass knuckles.
If they got to pulling hair,
they’d reveal that nothing’s there.
In a test of chicken eating,
Joe would take an awful beating.
Don will claim the country knows
Joe’s dressed up in Barack’s clothes.
Debate interest surely grows
if they might, indeed, trade blows.
Joe knows one place that he’s best:
in the big wind tunnel test.
