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(To the tune of “Little Girl Blue,” by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart)


When his campaign began
I thought it was all in fun.
Another game to stoke his name
To my chagrin he’s won
And nothing feels quite the same
Dems sit and wonder who’s to blame.
Worry reigns over DC
Worry raindrops fall on me


I sit here and feel the raindrops
Storm clouds have sent
Feeling all spent.
Why am I feeling like the raindrops?
Trump will be president.

I sit here and mourn the future
Under this gent
Who’ll not repent
Why do I worry o’er the future?
Trump will be president.


What can we do?
What can this man do to us?
Have you read Sinclair Lewis?
Threats He wrote of should clue us.
Not to trust, this con man
We’ll soon call
President Trump.

Reprise Bridge

Why feel so glum?
Although this is a bummer
He’s winter’s cold harsh Drummer
In four-year’s-time may come a
Summer, wise man
To dethrone
President Trump.

Lyric © by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

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