Don’t you see it, it’s in the way that he walks
It’s all about the way he wears his pants.
Don’t you see it, I mean, can’t you tell
His cologne’s got that Hollywood smell.
Don’t you see it, that man’s a Yankee
Place your bet, I’m doubling down.
Don’t you see it, it’s all over his face,
Credit cards to eat up your town.
Don’t you see it, it’s in the way that he talks
It’s all about the way he waves his hands,
Don’t you see it, they’re all going to Hell
Can’t get the crack out of the Liberty Bell.
Don’t you see it, that man’s a Yankee
On a jet, I know he’s a clown
Don’t you see it, it’s all over his face
Credit cards to eat up your town.
Frederick S. Blackmon, USA
The Social Poet 