Deprogramming Song 6

Deprogramming Song 6 – Turd Jazz Trump

Music is very therapeutic for treatment and recovery. Add this song to your play list as a reminder of what brings you to seek help in deprogramming yourself out of the cult of Trumpism.

Deprogramming Song #6

Turd Jazz Trump

[Verse 1]
Covfefé bloop bleep, in the tweet of night, Rallies light up, with sheer delight. Fake news this, fake news that, Makes you scratch your head, where’s the fact?[Verse 2]
Bigly style, going full throttle, But coherence? Sometimes it’s just a motto. Witch hunt, hoax, a disaster zone, Conversations like a linguistic dial tone.

Scat doo-wop, dip da dip doo, Covfefé groove, boom boom boo. Babble blabber, what a lark, Speaking in tongues that violence spark.

Best ever, trust in me, But the message, oh, it’s like a mystery. In a pattern, without a plot, Conversations tied up in a knot.

[Verse 3]
Stable genius, maybe not, But the words, they sometimes clot. Tremendous deals, fantastic trade, But the details, not displayed.

[Verse 4]
Mispronunciations, syntax blurred, incoherent Trump word salad conferred. From “two Corinthians” to “yuge” and “tremendous,” His linguistic style is quite expendious.

[Verse 5]
“Believe me,” “sad,” “beautiful” repeated, Ideas scattered, not quite completed. “Nobody knows,” “better than me,” The rhythm of rhetoric, utterly skewed.

[Verse 6]
Rant and ramble, a linguistic dance, A puzzle wrapped in a trance. Lock her up, drain the swamp, Phrases that make his crowd jump.

Scat doo-wop, dip da dip doo, Covfefé swing, bam bam boo. Gibber jabber, what a whirl, Words that often curl and twirl.

[Bridge 2]
Make America Great Again, a mighty cheer, But the path is never quite clear. In a tapestry, without a thread, Conversations thinly spread.

[Verse 7]
Collusion, hoax, a witch hunt’s song, But the narrative’s often long. Fake news echoes, in his thrall, While the truth seems so small.

[Verse 8]
Covfefé bloop blip, oh so grand, In the world of the inexplicable stand. Promises, bluster, a wall so strong, But the meaning? Sometimes it’s all wrong.

Scat doo-wop, dip da dip doo, Covfefé sway, shimmy shoo. Babbling blend, what a scene, like word jazz, without a theme.

Donald Trump rambles and rants on the campaign rally stages. His drones stand all day under the hot sun, going delirious from heat stroke. Because Trump is a deadbeat that no indoor venue will trust with a booking, after stiffing them in the 2020 campaign. Maybe that’s why his audience doesn’t realize how incoherent he is becoming.

Every time Trump opens his mouth he is on the verge of singing scat jazz. It’s undeniable that he is mentally declining. The few times he seems able to speak, it is to promote the Putin agenda for America’s self-destruction. Is Trump the “Russian Candidate” controlled with hypnosis at his private meetings with Putin?

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