Corrupt To The Core
Public money becomes private treasure and the rest of us are left holding the bill.
The depths of corruption to which Trump, his family, and his administration have stopped is unprecedented in modern history. The stagering amount that is in plain sight makes you wonder how much of the corruption we are not seeing.
As usual, scroll for alternate versions of this song.
Lyrics
We the people, in the matter of Donald J. Trump,
His family, and those who serve at his pleasure.
The charge: corruption in the first degree.
Read the counts.
Trump minted a crypto coin and put his face on the front,
Sold access to power and swore it’s no stunt.
World Liberty Financial: a billion four in his hand,
While the rules that could stop it got stalled, slow, and canned.
Then he pardoned the man whose exchange laundered the cash,
Two months after that engine had propped up his stash.
Call it coincidence, call it a whim,
But the mercy and the money both came out of him.
Guilty, guilty, corrupt to the core,
Guilty in broad daylight, right outside the door.
Yet 30% still love him, it’s the counts they ignore
But Trump’s guilty as sin and still asking for more
Corrupt to the core.
Trump took a Qatari jet, four hundred million in the air,
A gift from a prince, and he swore it was fair.
Fly it a while, then it’s his when he’s gone,
Parked at his library like a trophy he’s won.
Retrofit costs land on us, filed away out of sight,
Paid to paint it his colors; blue, red and golden bright.
Call it a favor, if favors cost that much,
We’re poorer for it and he’s out of touch.
Guilty, guilty, corrupt to the core,
Guilty in broad daylight, right outside the door.
Yet 30% still love him, it’s the counts they ignore
But Trump’s guilty as sin and still asking for more
Corrupt to the core.
They tore out the East Wing because Trump fancied a hall,
Three hundred million, and donors footed it all.
Patriot money, they call it, patriots with a stake,
Funny how much access that kind of patriotism can make.
Down at Mar-a-Lago, membership ran two hundred grand,
Now a cool million, with four seats left, they’re in high demand.
Ask what a seat at that table might buy,
And ask who’s reading every check, and why.
Guilty, guilty, corrupt to the core,
Guilty in broad daylight, right outside the door.
Yet 30% still love him, it’s the counts they ignore
But Trump’s guilty as sin and still asking for more
Corrupt to the core.
Trump sued his own government, and settled the case with himself,
One billion seven hundred seventy-six million, right off the shelf.
That number’s no accident, it’s the year that they chanted,
As they stormed the Capital: “1776 Returns!”, they ranted.
Traitors can apply and all those who beat on a cop,
Formal apologies for January Sixers the law once made them stop.
They won’t release the names, they won’t release the amount,
Call it justice if you want, but you’ll never see the account.
There’s an old line folks still say plain as day,
As rough as a callus, the workingman’s way,
“They got a mouthful of gimmie and a handful of take,”
And there’s no better witness that the record could make.
We don’t need a whistleblower, don’t need a spy,
Trump put it in writing himself, right before your eyes.
Every dollar’s got a fingerprint, and every print’s the same,
So read it into the record, and say the name.
Guilty, guilty, corrupt to the core,
Guilty in broad daylight, right outside the door.
Yet even the thirty percent don’t buy it like before,
Trump’s guilty as sin and the con don’t sell no more.
Guilty, guilty,
Corrupt to the core.
Guilty, guilty,
Corrupt to the core.
Let the record show.
Corrupt to the core.
Thank you for your
Attention to this matter!