As arranged for the Supremes a quintet of High Judicial Voices



O Donny boy, the fuzz, the fuzz are calling,

from state to state, around the USA.

Time’s running out, and your defenses falling.

They are intent on putting you away.

But we’ll be here when sun shines on the fairway,

or when the hurricanes of August blow –

we shall provide your legal exit stairway.

O Donny boy, O Donny boy, we love you so.


If it transpires that juries have decided,

and you are toast, as toast you well may be,

we’ll nullify their verdicts as one-sided,

dismiss your sentences, and set you free.

And we shall bend the law to reinstate you,

our President, as you should rightly be;

we’ll fox the plots of all the Dems who hate you,

so you can rule our state – once you have paid our fee.