(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

My iPhone

My iPhone
(To the tune of “My Guy,” written by Smokey Robinson and recorded by Mary Wells)

Nothing I could buy, could make me put aside
My iPhone.
There’s not a book I need, everything I can read
On my iPhone.
My iPhone is my buddy, It belongs in my pocket
At night right beside me it’s charging in the socket.
I’m simply mad about, what I couldn’t live without.
My iPhone.

I google and I’m smart, but not when I’m apart
From my iPhone.
I only know to go, to find what I should know
On my iPhone.
I’m searching and I’m texting and I’m tweeting fast.
Get a screen-light high, my heart is beating fast.
In winter how I love, what I’m holding in my glove.
My iPhone.

Now scientists are finding phones can make you dumb
If you seldom use your brain and only use you thumbs.
Melania should inform President Trump
How his thumbs are getting larger
While his brain’s a stump.

My intelligence wanes, and the doctor explains
It’s my iPhone.
Few people I will meet, cause I rather would tweet
Them on my iPhone.
My iPhone’s an extension of who I am.
My humanity’s dying and I don’t give a damn.
Like an addict getting kicks, always itching for a fix
From my iPhone.

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