Twas the night before Christmas, in the Presidents House,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The nation was trying to keep warm but in vain,
'Cause global warming had bought in the snow once again,
Melania in her ‘kerchief, and Don in his cap,
They settled their brains for a long winter’s nap.
When on the White House lawn there arose such a clatter,
Donald sprang from the bed to see what was the matter,
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
He looked more closer and said 'That's not St Nick'.
Hello Mr President, my names Abraham Lincoln,
And i've come to complain about what you've been thinkin',
The trickle down system you persist with is screwed,
American's can't warm up their houses or pay for their food.
You lie and disgraced these once wonderful lands,
You have sex with porn stars and have wandering hands,
Treaty withdrawals and sanctions announced,
All round the World you are being denounced.
You screwed up my country he said shaking his fist,
And leant through the window and gave Don's nipples a twist,
Then he drew back his fist and punched him hard in the belly,
That shook when he walked, like a bowlful of jelly!
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Took all of Trump's presents and called him a jerk,
Pausing to stick a finger up the Presidents nose,
He gave a brief nod and up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
Your record is wiped Trump, your numbers not listed
A present to the World, it's as if you never existed
As the World all cheered as he drove out of sight,
He said now it's Happy Christmas for all, this has been a good night!"