Don’t want this schmuck anymore.
It’s time to kiss off this rugged bore.
I cry each time I hear his sound.
Here comes Trump, the fathead clown.

Crazy tales are tall. Is he wearing a fall?
The guy’s telling nothing but lies
and his head is supersize.
In his mouth: Colbert’s balls.

Put Colbert’s nuts in his gorge,
where all of Trump’s bullshit is forged.
Steve stands above and dips ’em down
past gums Trump, who laps those mounds.

When you see this thug come near,
you know that you’re gonna hear
nonsense from a head that’s fat
and that’s topped off by a rat
that’s bleached and blown with air.

Don’t want this putz anymore.
His time to kiss Steve’s balls and more,
with tongue entwined and wrapped around.
Stephen’s nuts and clamping down,
the fathead clown,
the rathead clown,
who’s clamping down,
on sack o’ mounds. . . .