Raises his fists up to his eyes
Waves them slowly side to side
Waves them like a fist goodbye
To children where his bombers fly
A pumpkin he, made rotting flesh
Dancing ‘til there’s nothing left
His awful orange swaying heft
Of simple principle bereft
An ogre’s dance in tracer light
An ogre’s sleight, an ogre’s spite
An ogre’s drooling appetite
The ogre set the world alight
Steve White & The Protest Family 