This Must Be It, Dear God This Must Be It

I tell myself I'm done with Trump
I tell myself I'm not a fool
Git rid of him should be lots of fun
It's because he's such a tool

I tell myself he's such a chump
Who can make him go away?
That's when the news comes about Trump
And listen in and start to pray

Let this please be it oh dear God
This must be it or I shall die
Or I shall die
Oh hello, hello my dear God
This must be it but doesn't stick
And then I die
That's when I die

After a while, I'm myself again
I take the pieces off the floor
And pretend I'm sane again
Though never been sane before

It's not Russian collusion thing
I'll find a new scandal someday
That's when the news comes, and once again
I start to pray

Let this please be it, oh dear God
This must be it , This must be it
or I shall die, Or I shall die
Oh hello, hello my dear God
This must be it but doesn't stick
And then I die
That's when I die
 

About damn time we got Vikki Carr into the fight, Comrade Groucho. Why have we been holding her in reserve?
 

Is this it?
 

Fredo says THIS is it. Mom?? Mom??? and she never answered back...that we could hear.