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POTUS no more Blues

PROG OFF: I first posted this song five and a half years ago. There are those who maintain that I was a tad premature. Meanwhile, others say that my timing this time is just about right



Dont care 'bout where you're from
Dont care about golf you play
It's hive-mind thinking
Brought Dems to this day
Time's up, Barry
You aint no kind of POTUS .. to me ... anymore!
Ah, just aint POTUS no more

Now you kept on betting
Times would shield your ass
But I know and I know
Whoa, your party's in collapse
Times up, Barry
You aint no kind of POTUS .. to me ... anymore
No, no Barry

Yeah, I told Never Trumpers
In my neighborhood
You're a blind, blinkered Marxist
You mean the country no good
Times up, Barry
You aint no kind of POTUS .. to me .. anymore!

Yall took a beating
From the folks who cling
Oh, without our wake up
Might have made you king
By Sunday, Barry
You aint gonna be POTUS .. of me ... anymore
No no Barry

(Break to 35 second instrumental bridge as I summon up the mental reserves to cope with the blue tungsten-steel, double-Viagtab-fueled, ultra-priapistic schadenboner and that will undoubtedly come from saying ...)

GOOD BY, BARRY! (Ya daa da da DAAAH!)
Aaah, back up that van (DAAH daa da da daaah)
Dont want no POTUS, no
That cant love this land
Times up, Barry
You aint no kind of POTUS .. uh to me ... anymore!

No, no Barry
Not POTUS no more


PROGG BACK ON (SIGH)

I clicked on your link, Comrade Director, and could not help but note with utmost dread that you used the "Brothers Almanozov: At Lubyanka East" version of "POTUS No More."

Too late am I reminded of the old Karaoke Statement of Collective Musical Orthodoxy -- There are two types of Comrades in the world of Next Tuesday: Those that enjoy "Dead at Lubyanka East" and those whose Brothers Almanazov tastes run to the neo-Troskyite "Eat More Beets."

I denounce myself in the most enthusiastic terms for my counter-reactionary error, and eagerly await the never-ending truncheon pummelings that will be required to achieve the final victory over my musical self

Urgent news, Komrades! As the end of the Days of The One draws ever closer, it will be necessary to continually change the lyrics of "Two Days, Barry" to "One day, Barry" to "Half day, Barry" to "Three hours, Barry" Please click on this link early and often to stay apace.

And yes Komrades, I realize that this is naught but most laughably transparent attempt at cyber-individualistic click-whoring that can be imagined. In the fullness of time, I will atone by demanding a session in Room 101. Bring on the rat, I say. Do it not to Julia, do it to me!


(Urgent Wednesday, 1/18/17, morning update to previous urgent update!!! It appears that there will be no lyric update today, Komrades, as it is still two days away from The Trumpageddon. It appears my busy schedule of electro-tormentive therapy and lunchtime beatdowns, or "truncheon luncheons" as my guards so hilariously put it, has played havoc with my ability to track the days)

^(Urgent corrective update to previous urgent corrective update: Disregard said update as I am now in sync with the calendar and have updated my lyrics accordingly to "One day, Barry")


 
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