When MAGAns stare at Donald's hair,
on ev'ry MAGAn sleeve
a heart gung ho is worn; we know
they choose to see-no-weave.
on ev'ry MAGAn sleeve
a heart gung ho is worn; we know
they choose to see-no-weave.
When MAG's take stock of Donald's shock,
their choice is to believe
of Donald's thatch Don's ol' line. Natch,
each MAGAn hears-no-weave.
When MAGAns talk, they never balk;
to policy they cleave
as they explain, "'Tis real, Drumpf's mane."
(True MAGAns speak-no-weave.)
And, though it's weird, there's now appear'd
some MAGA nuts named Steve.*
who, though Herr Liar's hair's on fire,
insist they smell-no-weave.
*Bannon...? Miller...? Scalise...?
The verse isn't specific.
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