Money talks

He wants to be king of the country, tsar of the west
Anyone can be elected, but he will confess
He will not be fettered by rules, or by laws
The truth begins truly when he moves his own jaws.

Every breath that he takes ushers in a new moment
It's those in the past that cause him such torment.
Woe to the science books, bah to the facts
The country is bound by his whimsical acts.

He lives for good ratings. He twitters and tweets.
He thinks pictures lie when they're taken of streets.
He likes to make deals that are deep under ground
But presidents are visible even when they're just sound.

His thoughts are all tumbling, jumbling, rumbling.
His truth and his lies he is constantly juggling.
He swears that this country is going to be great.
Then he wanders around parties carrying his plate.

He insults the women and angers the men
Without any thought of the pickle he's in.
If you ask him I'm sure that he'll claim his true testament
Is simply because he paid to be president.