The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #166522   Message #4173416
Posted By: Donuel
29-May-23 - 07:57 PM
Thread Name: MOAB - Mother of All BS [annex]
Subject: RE: MOAB - Mother of All BS [annex]
THE WRECK OF THE DONALD TRUMP BIG LIE

The legend lives on from Wikipedia on down
Of the big lie they called Donald's last stand
The race, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of Bull Shit twenty-six thousand tons more
The real Donald Trump campaign spent millions
That good ship Trump truth was a bone to be chewed
When campaigns of November came early
The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some rally in Wisconsin
As the big liars go, HE was bigger than most
With a crew and good Donald well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of firms
When they left fully loaded for Victory
And later that night when votes were counted
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over his railing
And every man knew, as the Donald did too
T'was the witch of November come stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When campaigns of November came slashin'
When afternoon came votes felt like freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind
When suppertime came, the old cook came in sayin'
"Fellas, it's too late to feed ya"
At seven PM, the election caved in, he said
"Fellas, it's been good to know ya"
Then Rudy phoned in he had bad news comin' in
And the campaign and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Donald J Trump run
Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the truth turns the minutes to hours?
The broadcaster all say if he had more votes that day
If they'd put fifteen more States behind him
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and went to jail
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters
Internet rolls, television sings
In the rooms of his golf resort mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And farther below Mason Dixon
Takes in what history sends her
And candidates go as the politicos all know
With campaigns of November remembered
In a musty old hall in old Queens they prayed
In the maritime sailors' cathedral
The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Donald Trump ticket
The legend lives on from Manhatten on down
Of the big lie they called lets play dirty
America, they said, never gives up her dead
When campaigns of November come early