Oh, Donny Boy

Oh Donny boy, your poll numbers are falling
In all the states, and now on every side
Those you despise are rising up and calling
For you to go, to go away and hide.

In November the vote will lay you very low.
When all your fairways turn to mud and muck,
No sunshine for you, Trumpfter, only shadow
Oh Donny boy, oh Donny boy, you’re such a schmuck.