THE PRESIDENT IS A TROLL

THE PRESIDENT IS A TROLL*
(To the tune of, “The Gentleman is a Dope,” by Richard Rodgers & Oscar Hammerstein II, from the Broadway Show “Allegro,” (1947) )

The President is a troll
Don’t take him at his word
He plays a game
But takes no blame
The spectacle’s absurd
The President is a troll
With power to provoke
Flooding the web with his nonsense
With mirrors and self-made smoke

The President loves to grope.
And chaos is his goal
He isn’t suave
No Romanov
He is, No he’s a mole.
The President is a troll
And Twitter is his drug
A trawler inside the world-wide-web
He’ll slime you in time, this slug.

He’s tweets are too crass to mention
He boastfully feels no shame
All done to gain more attention
Does he not know he’s smearing his own name?

The President is a troll.
And trolls are Nazi-Huns.
Taking aim
No guilt, no shame.
At vulnerable ones.
The President is a troll.
The lowest road he takes.
Demeaning the President’s office.
Not seeing how high are the stakes.

Lyric © 2017 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

*Post inspired by Amanda Hess article, “Click Bait,” (NYT Magazine, Sunday, March 5, 2017)

BLAME

Blame is a tactic President Trump often has used to deflect criticism. When criticized, he blames someone for something real, made-up or imagined. The death of Navy Seal William Ryan Owens in a failed military raid in Yemen is the fault of overzealous generals. The media and congress are investigating Russian communications made by members of his campaign, some of whom lied about those communications. Trump awakens Saturday morning tweeting they should also investigate President Obama’s wiretap of his Trump Tower phones. He states no source or evidence to support the charge but insists fairness demands an investigation. FBI director James Comey flatly says No! He asks the Department of Justice to repudiate the charge. Of course No! I The Russian matter heated-up when Trump’s National Security Advisor Michael Flynn and Attorney General Jeff Sessions were caught lying about their Russian contacts. Those lies are perhaps probable cause for criminal investigations not merely congressional inquiries. On the wiretap matter, we have only the President’s word. Was the source of the President’s charge a Breitbart story; or, did Trump dream it the night before? The dream possibility made me think of Johnny Mercer’s lovely song “Dream” on which this post is based.

BLAME
(To the tune of, “Dream,” by Johnny Mercer (1944))

Blame, though you’ve not one clue.
Claim they’re surveilling you.
Listen to Limbaugh, read Breitbart for news
End-up with views.
That make others woozy.

Blame, showing who you are.
Blame, shifting fault afar.
Bound by no honor.
Feeling no shame.
You blame, blame, blame.

Lyric © 2017 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

IT’S NO COINCIDENCE

IT’S NO COINCIDENCE
(to the tune of “Too Marvelous for Words,” by Richard A. Whiting & Johnny Mercer (1937))

It’s no coincidence.
We’re not deaf, dumb and blind.
It’s spurious, we’re curious.
Why Sessions was perjurious?

It’s not believable.
And puts Trump in a bind.
Explaining it, disclaiming it.
His shoes keep stepping into it.

It’s obvious
To hear the Russians kvelling.
Joke’s all on us.
Where this leads there’s no telling.

Before an ending here.
You’ll want the real low-down.
Of course it’s no coincidence
The Russians love this clown.

Lyric © 2017 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

FEELS LIKE A MARX BROTHERS SHOW

FEELS LIKE A MARX BROTHERS SHOW
(To the tune of “Almost Like Being in Love,” by Frederick Lowe & Alan Jay Lerner (1947))

Trump has crowned himself King
Groucho’s one-liners zing
Well this feels like a Marx Brothers show.

With our rights being shorn
Harpo’s honking his horn.
Yes, this feels like a Marx Brothers show.

What dark humor we found in Duck Soup.
Trump and Bannon reprise that old Troupe.

And with this vaudeville clown
Came the circus to town.
Now it feels like the Marx Brothers
Reels like the Marx Brothers
Feels like a Marx Brothers show

Lyric © 2017 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved.

TAKING US ALL FOR FOOLS

TAKING US ALL FOR FOOLS
(To tune of “Taking a Chance on Love,” by Vernon Duke & John La Touche (1940))

Here they go again.
Wanting the tax rates low again.
Pipelines flow again.
Taking us all for fools.

Greed un-spools again.
Attacking public schools again.
Spare Wall Street rules again.
Taking us all for fools.

The blame it on immigration
Big job loss scapegoat.
And welcome more automation.
Those machines, they’ll never vote.

No surprise again.
Whose wealth is sure to rise again?
Best hurry, and get wise again.
They’re taking us for fools.

Reprise
Who’s content again?
You guessed, the one percent again.
They own the president again.
Taking us all for fools.

Coal is in again.
And climate change a sin again.
And we’re supposed to grin again?
They’re taking us all for fools.

The billionaires have their own club
Trump’s Cabinet it’s called.
You’d better go find your own bub
Cause from theirs you are blackballed.

Tempers flare again.
Hard to believe they’d dare again.
Denying us health- care again.
Taking us all for fools.

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

THE GREAT EXPLAINER

Watching Sunday’s Meet the Press, I was amused by Vice President Pence’s slick effort at trying to explain President Trump’s latest faux pas. Do you wonder what Pence is really thinking?

THE GREAT EXPLAINER
(To the tune of “The Great Pretender,” by Buck Ram as recorded by Tony Williams
and The Platters (1955))

Oh yes, I’m the great explainer
Explaining for President Trump
When he’s uncouth.
And offends the truth.
With a straight-face I rescue the chump.

Oh yes, I’m the great explainer.
When our president’s making no sense.
Then I alibi.
Sidestep and deny.
Trump relies on his friend Mr. Pence.

His mouth is as wide as his ego and pride.
His head thick as lead, does a brain dwell inside?

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh yes, I’m the great explainer
Defending what can’t be explained.
His outrageous flair.
Leads to my blank stare.
By the end of the day I feel drained.
And fearing my future is stained.

His mouth is as wide as his ego and pride.
His head thick as lead, does a brain dwell inside?

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh yes, I’m the great explainer.
I humor that billionaire snob.
For within my reach.
Should the gang impeach.
Lies my path to the world’s greatest job.
And you thought I’m a sycophant gob?
Well, no minion am I to that slob.

Lyric © 2017 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

THE WORST IS YET TO COME

THE WORST IS YET TO COME
(To the tune of The Best is Yet to Come, by Shannon Greene and Todd N. Terry)

Out of the candidates, we’ve selected the rump.
The words stick in my throat saying President Trump
And now I fear, right here, the worst is yet to come

The worst is yet to come, that’s becoming quite clear
I’m so afraid the harm will be more than I fear

Issuing orders every day.
Brewing un-needed fights.
Closing our borders come what may.
Stepping on precious rights.

The worst is yet to come, cloaked the devil arrives
The worst is yet to come, pray the country survives.

Pray this land survives
He’s certain to go too far.
We used to care about lives.
Let’s not forget who we are.

The worst is yet to come, meaner than it now seems.
The worst is yet to come, out to steal your dreams.

Lyric © 2017 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esq.
All rights reserved

WHAT’S SO GOOD ABOUT THE NEWS?

WHAT’S SO GOOD ABOUT THE NEWS?
(To the tune of “What’s so Good About Goodbye?” by Smokey Robinson as recorded by The Miracles)

What’s so good about the news?
All it does is give me the blues.
Read how Trump can get elected
and how Putin is suspected.
Tell me, what’s so good about it?*
I could have done without it.*
What’s so good about the news?

In the Wall Street Journal today.
Read they’ll take my health plan away.
Though I’m healthy, I’m not wealthy.
And I can’t afford miscues.
Tell me, what’s so great about it?
I’d be OK without it.
What’s so great about the news?

Be like Trump and never read.
What a sheltered life I would lead.
Thinking ignorance is blissful
But that man is just abysmal
Tell you what’s so good about it?
We’d all be dumb without it
That’s what’s good about the news.

Lyric © by Robert S. Steinberg except starred (*) lines verbatim from original song.
All rights reserved.

IT WAS GRAND TO BE RUNNING

IT WAS GRAND TO BE RUNNING
(To tune of “It’s a Grand Night for Singing,” by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, from film “State Fair.”)

It was grand to be running
Campaigning’s one more show
In your White House chair
while they blow-dry your hair
reality may bite your toe.

It was grand to be running.
When promised walls rang true.
Now you’ve been elected
and you’ll be expected
to prove what you really can do.
That wall may fall on you.

Maybe you’ll learn to be calm.
Maybe you’ll learn to go slow.
You might come to see
that the Presidency
is not a reality show.

Maybe you’ll think more than talk.
Maybe you’ll grow to be wise.
Maybe the earth will crash into the sun
and burn up before your own eyes.

It was grand to be running.
Cheer Mr. Pres. your chum.
You don’t see your error
why others feel terror
as “things fall apart”, for some.
“The blood dimmed tide” has come

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

WELCOME TO ABSURDUM

WELCOME TO ABSURDUM
(To original melody)

Welcome to Absurdum
A place they used to call America.
And if you’re coming to the USA
Best pack a bullet-proof vest.
All the crazies live here.
Loaded guns everywhere.
So you’d better steer clear.
God bless America.

Welcome to Absurdum
Now look who’s vying to be president.
An egomaniac with a coif.
A lady who wants to wear the pants.
Soon the crazies will vote.
“Open-carry” promote.
Privacy’s in the moat.
Liberty’s a game of chance.

Welcome to Absurdum
A place they used to call America.
Honest Abe’s restless grave.
Sees us fooled all the time.
Oligarchs plot and rule.
Lobbyists selling mule.
Try to live on a dime.
God bless America.

© 2016 By Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved