Bye, bye, this American lie.
Drove him down to KFC
because he wanted a thigh.
His good old boys
are keeping their powder dry.
This transition we could see people die.
This transition we could see people die.

Well, for four years he’s been overblown.
Now he’s drifted to a danger zone.
We could see tanks on the White House lawn.
He’s not nimble. He’s not quick.
But he holds the nuclear joy stick.
And any aides who’d stop him are now gone.

Yes, he’s got Bull Barr, vile Lindsey Gee,
and, of course Mitch Moscow, KGB.
They’ll play their cheating hands out to the end.
And though the Biden votes were real,
they’ll claim the count was a raw deal,
and turn to the Supreme Court, their last friend.

But it’s been ten days on the fence,
and, despite threats of violence,
the nation still will hold,
despite the lies turned gold.
Ignoring his loud hue and cry,
our democracy won’t die.
Already his great tantrum’s growing old.

When January makes us shiver,
he’ll have emptied his mad quiver.
Without his slings and arrows,
he’ll be moved out in wheelbarrows.
His whole team will be on the skids.
We’ll be finally rid of those damned kids.

And then we can sing,
Bye, bye, mister thumb-in-the-pie.
Hop your plane to Mar-a Lago
as we all wave goodbye.
Your whole four years
can be summed up as a lie.
In one more term we would probably die.
We will always see your shameful goodbye.

So, Joe be careful. Joe be slick.
Make us forget Trump, that prick.
Bring our good land back to grace.
Kamala will have your back.
Liz, Bern, Cory, your new pack.
Your mission, if accepted: saving face.