He is blowing his own trumpet
His cards are all trumped
He is the bully on top of the pyramid
He is the reason you got thumped

He wants to build a wall
And he wants international travel deleted
He wants a greater America
When all his tantrums are completed

Now he has learned too late
The tax collection has taken a hit
There is nobody left to tax
And America is in the shit

All of his friends in the New York penthouses
All of his pals way down on the Texas plains
All of his buddies in the Los Angeles hills
All fiddling the books and living tax-free

With no foreigners left to tax
With no tourists filling the pot
The only place that was left to tax
Were the poor souls that were left to rot

This did not go down well with the ghosts and ghouls
The walking dead were in a huff
They might be dead but not all fools
Things were about to get tough

Of all our dead heroes who fought the wars
All of the esteemed citizens long gone
Now taxed to death in their life after death
How could Trump get it so wrong?

It cost me an arm and a leg when we were living
Now you want the whole rib cage
There is dissent in the quietest of cemeteries
Howling mad in a rage

The moonshine in the graveyard at midnight
The easy pickings under the light of the moon
Now have all become nocturnal luxuries
For those were death came too soon

Just like they raided the pyramids of Giza
Just like they looted the temples of Cambodia
Now they are ransacking the well dead geezer
Now there is total pandemonia

There is a voodoo curse in New Orleans
The witch doctors have a bone to pick
A million restless souls taxed eternally
It is enough to make the living sick

The native Indians are looking kind of smug
Remember their ancestors were massacred in cold blood
Now those murdering bastards are being tortured
Maybe it was too late to teach them some good

Unlike the living tax system bands
The dead they all pay an equal quota
All taxed with the same capacity
Bureaucracy was soulless slaughter

So if you hear the rattle of chains in a graveyard
Listen carefully and think again
It will be more like the clinking of coins
As the tax collector works the night train

As foolish and fantastic this would be
For Trump to tax the rotting dead
But some of his policies are a lot more ridiculous
As the public shouts “off with his head”

He could tweet all day to his bought audience
He could build bigger walls than in China
He could bully and protest
As his economy will digress
As he sickly abuses another vagina

So be taxed to death and beyond
Is not so unreal as it seems
With that foul mess that is Trump
The world will get the hump
As he destroys a billion dreams.