OK, it’s sleazy. Is he deranged?
His emails explain just how he feels:
He says he needs her love; she is his number 1.
We don’t believe him. . .
He says he’s hiking under the sky blue. . .
He’s undressing his concubine--
Some 6 and some 9 they will do.

So he heads to the Pampas, hops off the plane,
Hops on her, and soon he’s mounting.
Looking much like a widow is his stay-at-home hon.
So he goes cheating,
Running around, lying, getting a screw,
But the press will soon come to call,
As they inevitably do.

Dope cried down in Argentina:
The truth now he’ll slowly tell you:
He’d had some wild lays. . .
Second existence--
Kept not his promise
To be a Christian.

So he was porkin’ there with a dame
Who wasn’t his bride—that’s a sin!
Coarse emails course the world, as he scrawled his desire.
They are unloosened;
It seems that he was unloosened morally.
He panted for her—and online!
One more slut from the GOP.

Dope lied about Argentina;
The truth now he’ll slowly tell you:
He’d had some wild lays,
He wasn’t zipped in.
Kept not his promise
To be a Christian.

Then he said too much
In a rambling press conference. Is he loose a screw?!
It ain’t lookin’ like he is gonna be
A candidate 2-0-1-2.

Dope’s fly down in Argentina
For hoochie-koochie, this fella.
He’s got lying ways;
He keeps on fibbin’.
Went there to prod Ms--
Now gets a ribbin'.