Poetry by A.H. Scott, Copyright 2018
.
Sour Moneybags’ Dumbasssss Song
.
Tweets don’t fail me now!
Tweets don’t fail me now!
Tweets don’t fail me now!
On the run
Ain’t no pun
Feelin’ the strain on my feet, as under the sun my old body is beat
Hellhounds on my trail
I’m being persecuted beyond the pale
Gotta run from “The Man”
Cuz’ I’m a renegade without no plan or power
Oh, who am I kiddin’, I’m “The Man” livin’ in the Ivory Tower
They call me Prez,
But, behind my back they call me Sauer
Mueller’s on my case
But, no crimes are mine
Not even a trace
Gotta stick it to “The Man”
Cuz’ I’m a poor l’il lamb
Just ignore the fact that I’m outta’ the crib with my pappy’s platinum rib
Gold home plate is ever so great
But, I’m a lonely man in the peoples’ house all alone
Yet, there is that certain something that melts my heart and keeps me from turning to stone
As long as I have that aqua chirper, I sure as hell ain’t alone
Tweets don’t fail me now!
Tweets don’t fail me now!
Gavel’s gonna’ get me, if I stand still
Nancy P. lookin’ at me and is goin’ in for the kill
Gotta put on a mask of strength
Even though I’m on the short end of length
Dames! Dames! Ruining my game
RBG is the Energizer Bunny and fit as a fiddle
She’s older than me, but I’m a tantrum toddler that dribbles
My iron grip is startin’ to slip with every pushback of democracy’s nibble
But, I’m new to this job, ya’ gotta remember that fact
Two years running and I still ain’t got no tact
Gotta’ keep on the run
Ya’ know I ain’t no nun
Ya’ know I ain’t no monk
Damn, gotta keep on runnin’, to keep out of this funk
But, Mueller’s crampin’ my style
Now, Dems ain’t lettin’ me have no more fun
Guard rails be damned, I’m drivin’ this mutha of a country off the razor’s edge
After all, I’m running this show with my orange glow
Yet, nobody realizes that hazy hue is actually my halo
Promises, promises, I screech again and again
Gonna make a run for the border and get me some cashin’
Makin’ them Mexicans pay for my wall is my key voting blocks’ passion
Sour Moneybags spouting gibberish of worker bees praising him for shutdown
While, fed employees’ cash flow is running down
Tweets don’t fail me now!
Tweets don’t fail me now!
My dumbass song won’t do me wrong
This is my song, am I wrong? Am I wrong?
Cuz’ it got me where I am all along
Gazing out my window, I see the little bluebird
As it flies by, I run outside and give it a wave
Little bluebird comes closer towards me
It must be quite brave
A fat turd from that bird lands in my eye
Screaming, I cry, “Why? Why? Why?”
Tweet is my friend, again and again
Yet, sweet bird of blue is a myth that is ever so true
When a tweet comes from the soul which is sour, call of the barbarian is diminished in power
Tweet defeat
He CAN be beat
Dems don’t fail us now!
.
About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by A. H. Scott, go here:https://tonywardstudio.com/blog/a-h-scott-crumblin-dice/