Ay! Caramba!

I’m telling you, folks,

‘cause you’ll want to know,

If I lose this election,

I’ll just have to go

To the land of the sun

And rapists and thugs,

Where I’ll set up a business

With signature drugs.

 

Trump towers over Mexico,

Where factories build fast,

But the people are slow.

I’ll put NAFTA to use

And the figures will show

I’ll be a winner down in Mexico.

 

I don’t speak much Spanish

(I think that’s what they talk),

But I do speak corruption—

It worked in New Yawk—

So I’m taking my hair

To become resident

And who knows? Some day

I could be president

 

Of dilapidated Mexico.

I’ll lie about my name

So the people won’t know

I trash-talked their country

On every talk show—

So I’ll be someone down in Mexico.

 

I’ll soon own the place—

Or at least the good part—

And treat all the workers

Like they do at Walmart

And, when presidente

And king of it all,

I’ll make US voters

Build me a big wall

 

Between them and Mexico–

They once had their chance

And then they will know

I’m even bigger down here

While they’re on skid row

‘cause they’ll love me down in Mexico.

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