Makin’ Money (with apologies to Ella Fitzgerald)

I don’t usually write lyrics, but this song just about wrote itself
Another lie, another tune
No more sunny afternoons, 

Any old reason, any old treason 

For makin’ money

A lot of trees, a lot of ice

Pruitt’s nervous; he answers twice

I don’t mind killin’

You know I’m willin’… for makin’ money
Picture a little for-est

Drown where the birdies sing.

Picture the same sweet for-est

Think what a year can bring
He’s got a hotel and real estate

He’s so ambitious, but second rate

Hey, don’t forget, folks

That’s what you get, folks, for laund’ring money
Another year or maybe less

What’s this I hear? Well, he won’t confess

The country’s neglected, and he’s suspected

Of takin’ money
Pence dines alone ‘most every night

Nunes stops in, after midnight

He says he’s busy. The press says, “Is he?”

He’s makin’ money
He doesn’t want much money

Only five thousand per

Workers who want their money?

Hey, “You’ll pay six to her!”
“But I’m not White, my school might fail”

Jeff Sessions says, “Right into jail”

Oh prison-keeper; I think it’s cheaper

We’re makin’ money
Betsy Devos, they say “we’ll keep her”

We know it’s cheaper

And we’re makin’ money…
Resisting with Peace,

John

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