by Dan Campion

Pardon me, bud,
Is that the Mar-a-Lago choo choo?
Track four-to-nine?
Pal, just levy a fine.
I can afford
To board the Mar-a-Lago choo choo.
I’ve got my fare.
Prosecute if you dare.

You leave the Lincoln Bedroom ’bout a quarter to four,
Read your Twitter feed and then you’re out the front door.
Dinner full of starches
Under golden arches,
You’ll get there by limousines, not cell block marches.

When you hear the Secret Service burble last straw,
Then you know for sure that you’re above common law.
Shovel all the chips in;
Let clowns get their quips in.
Whoo, whoo, Mar-a-Lago pardon’s our draw.

There’s gonna be
A certain pardon at the White House,
Up-my-sleeve ace
I used to call “a disgrace.”
Justice may weep
Until I put the old gal to sleep.
So Mar-a-Lago choo choo,
Like throne bearers in Rome,
Mar-a-Lago choo choo,
Won’t you choo choo me home?