A FOUL AND CRUSHING TIDE

A FOUL AND CRUSHING TIDE
(To the tune of, “Long and Winding Road, by Paul McCartney, as recorded by Paul McCartney and Wings)

A foul and crushing tide
of autocracy
I never thought I’d see.
This tide roll over me.
He answers to, “My Liege.”
Our rights are under siege.

Who’d justify the means
by his own evil ends?
One who pretends to love
free democracy.
While our Due Process Clause
he shreds to self-applause.

Every time he tells a lie
there’s people who’ll believe him.
Prove to them he’s told a lie
the fools will still believe him

This turning from the truth
feels so sad I could cry
In pain, I wonder why
our founders had to die.
We need them here today.
We’ve surely lost our way.

 

Lyric © 2018 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

MY SHOW

On the reality show in the While House –

MY SHOW
(To the tune of “My Guy,” by Smokey Robinson as recorded by Mary Wells)

I won the starring role
Now I’ve taken control
It’s my show.
Don’t hand me no script
Cause I’ll won’t be tight-lipped
It’s my show.
I’m taking no advice from no well-read advisor
Who may be educated, ‘cause I know I’m wiser.
I’m telling you where it’s at
I wear the bosses hat
It’s my show.

Better not disagree
Never contradict me
It’s my show.
There’s an ever growing pile
Those I’ve fired with a smile
It’s my show.
I suppose I should govern while the world’s overheating
Give the job my attention but I’m too busy tweeting.
I’ve told you from the start
I’m a showman at heart
It’s my show.

If you ask for my opinion
How my presidency rates?
I’ll tell you It’s the greatest one
Of these United States
If you’ve asked for my opinions
‘Bout the world or country
By now you know  my answers
Ramble on about me.

No one in DC
Can take the spotlight off me
It’s my show.
I can threaten a war
My Nielsen Ratings will soar
It’s my show
Fox is filling up my head with combustible news
I’m wearing silk pajamas while they’re warping my views
I feel just like a King
Just doing my thing
It’s my show.

 

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

I’D RUSH RIGHT IN WITHOUT A GUN

Our humble president has just crowned himself a hero by claiming he’d have rushed right into the Marjory Stoneman Douglas School during the shooting, even without a gun.

 I’D RUSH RIGHT IN WITHOUT A GUN
(To the tune of “That’s Why the Lady is a Tramp,” by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart)

I am a hero with medals galore
I’ve rescued swimmers while safe on the shore.
I’m so courageous, all threats are a bore.
And I’d rush right in without a gun.

I hit a homer of World Series fame.
I scored a touchdown in a Super Bowl game.
If you don’t believe me, Fake News is to blame.
And I’d rush right in without a gun.

I used my clout, to skip Viet Nam.
But truth be damned.
I’m brave.
No knave.

I grab girl’s privates, to me that such fun.
But I’d rush right in without a gun.

Lyric © 2018 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

Our humble president has just crowned himself a hero by claiming he’d have rushed right into the Marjory Stoneman Douglas School during the shooting, even without a gun.

 I’D RUTH RIGHT IN WITHOUT A GUN
(To the tune of “That’s Why the Lady is a Tramp,” by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart)

I am a hero with medals galore
I’ve rescued swimmers while safe on the shore.
I’m so courageous, all threats are a bore.
And I’d rush right in without a gun.

I hit a homer of World Series fame.
I scored a touchdown in a Super Bowl game.
If you don’t believe me, Fake News is to blame.
And I’d rush right in without a gun.

I used my clout, to skip Viet Nam.
But truth be damned.
I’m brave.
No knave.

I grab girl’s privates, to me that is fun.
But I’d rush right in without a gun.

Lyric © 2018 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

 

ONE MORE TIME

ONE MORE TIME
(To tune of Who Will Buy by Lionel Bart from 1968 film Oliver, which was based on the 1960 London West End musical of the same name)

Who will end this horrible feeling?
Feel so bad, I swear I might die
Who will end the slaughter of our children?
So many guns out there to buy

By and by, one engineered for killing.
Does its job, the logic here defies
Children die and no one’s even willing
To challenge those gun-lobby guys

And when we’re looking in our mirrors
How do we face ourselves each day?
And who when finally meet their maker
Will hide those cards from NRA

There’s no time, another sad mass shooting
One more crime committed right here by
Those who sob inside remaining silent
Refusing to oppose the lie
Allowing anyone to buy
Another weapon one more time

Lyric © 2018 by Robert S. Steinberg
All rights reserved

WHEN DONALD TWEETS

WHEN DONALD TWEETS
(To the tune of, Up on the Roof,” by Gerry Goffin and Carole King as recorded by The Drifters (1962))

When Donald Trump wakes up on his throne
He reaches for his phone
And starts to type.
Begins to tweet what’s gotten him steamed
Or what he’s dreamed
To need a morning hype.

When Donald tweets what’s fuming in his head.
The White House staff all wish they’d stayed in bed.

Let me tell you now

A president should measure his words
Not seem absurd
Like someone’s angry aunt.
And one who is the voice of the State
Should ruminate
Like Plato and not rant.

But Donald proudly brags he doesn’t read.
How could we let an ignoramus lead?

And do I have to say that

Swagger on the nuclear stage
And ego rage alarm
the world elites
The missile codes are under his thumb
So we’re at DEFCON I
When Donald Tweets.
When Donald Tweets
When Donald Tweets

 

Lyric © 2018 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

HOW WE MOP THE MAP

Gerrymandering is so unfair that one would like to think the courts would find it a no-brainer.  Yet it is far from certain that this Supreme Court will not uphold a state legislature’s right to draw whatever district voting boundaries it feels like drawing regardless of how contorted those boundaries become or whether they cause a loss of voting parity to many.

HOW WE MOP THE MAP
(To the tune of, What I Did for Love, by Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban, from the 1975 Broadway Musical, A Chorus Line.)

Kiss your seat goodbye
Watch us Gerrymander
Bleach your district lily white
Carve it to the right.
How we mop the map.
How we mop the map.

A Rorschach to the eye.
Like stealing though much grander.
Gets those democrats all psyched.
Rope-out the votes disliked.
How we mop the map.
How we mop the map.

Un-fair yet no one stops.
Our re-district mops.
Lock-in our selection.

You gave it a good try
For a fair election.
But fairness is a loser’s prop.
Stand and clap, it’s a wrap,
How we mop the map.
How we mop the map.

Lyric © 2018 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

KICKING THE CAN ON DOWN THE ROAD

Congress is again trying to postpone addressing tough budgetary issues but passing another short-term government funding bill.  Nothing new here.

KICKING THE CAN ON DOWN THE ROAD
(To tune of “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head,” by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, Oscar winning song from 1969 Best Picture movie, “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” starring Robert Redford and Paul Newman)

Kicking the can on down the road
When responsibility becomes a heavy load
Congress won’t decide
They just kick that old can again a little bit further

Because, to make a decision takes a stand
And taking a stand in an election’s year is banned
Campaign suicide
So, they just kick that old can again a little bit further

But they must surely know
They’re putting on a show there
And we know here
A country kicking cans is heading nowhere

Because, kicking the can on down the road
Is just like the hopping of a narrow-minded toad
Feeling satisfied
But toads never make it to the end of a long road
Your feet are free
Kick them out of DC

Lyric © 2011, 2014, 2015, 2018 by Robert S. Steinberg
All rights reserved

MERRY CHRISTMAS

PLEASE MISTER SANTA
(To original melody)

Please Mister Santa
Don’t send me any toys.
Got no one here to watch me play
Like lucky girls and boys.

When you’re an orphan
Your mom and dad are gone.
They’ve told me they’re in heaven now.
But still they’re all I want.

And so I had to write this letter.
Send what would make this hurt inside feel better.

Someone to love me.
And take me as their own.
Please don’t forget me Santa.
I’m so small and all alone.

Please Mister Santa
I need a Merry Christmas
Before I’m fully grown.

 

© 2015 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

HAPPY THANSGIVING

IF I AM THANKFUL
(Original poem)

If I am thankful for my home,
I will shelter the homeless.
If I am thankful for this meal,
I will feed the hungry.

If I am thankful my children are safe,
I will protect all children.
If I am thankful for being loved,
I will bestow loving kindness on all.

If I am thankful for my portion,
I will give generously to the needy.
If I am thankful for my talents,
I will keep mindful my failings.

If I am thankful for my freedom,
I will respect the rights of others.
If I am thankful for this life,
I will revere the miracle it represents.

If I do not,
I am not truly thankful,
Only selfish.

© 2010 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved