There was a round and orange man with worms inside his heart.
His racist landlord daddy taught him tricks right from the start,
then handed him the billions he had scammed throughout his life.
But orange boy had blown most of it by his second wife.
He bankrupted casinos, hotels, universities.
He had construction done and often ran off on the fees.
By the time he bought his third wife, he owed many lenders.
These were guys who’d break your back and not just dent your fenders.
Many promises were made, and deals under the table.
Dirty deeds would be his life, as long as he was able.
Then, like a deep-fried chicken bone that’s plucked of all its meat,
he’ll be thrown, alone, defeated, out into the street,
laughed at behind closed doors by old cronies and fat cats,
doomed by his own deeds now to be carried off by rats.