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Milania, Milania

Milania, Milania

Milania, Milania, our journey’s nearly done,
We fudged the facts, paid little tax, the prize is almost won,
The polls I hear are tied —‘tho  clear that most folk are disgusted.
With hollow eyes they realise I’m crude and can’t be trusted
    In deed,  O  heart! heart! heart!
       those lipstick marks are red—
          They stain my shirt!—Milania’s words
               Are fallen cold and dead

Milania,  Milania get up and hear the bells
‘Tis but for you my fling  is flung— not Stormy Daniels,
Your haute couture—a sinecure —we’ve been through this before,
A little hicky on my ass and you’d walk out the door?
        Milania,  Milania,
           She was just a little hussy
                ‘Tis just your dream that on the deck
                   I  grabbed her by the pussy

Milania does not answer tho’ I grovel at her foot
My lady neither holds my hand so I just  pats  her butt
At my inauguration there is just myself to thank,
‘Tho I would mention too my crew had most not walked the plank.
        Shout O shores,and ring O bells!
              Hark, —potentially a gremlin—
                  someone, I ween,  that I must  thank
                      exulting in the Kremlin.

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