Black Hole Trump - A Song

Lyrics by Joyce Strong, music by Suno

Black Hole Trump

He’s a black hole in a red tie suit,
Spinning rage in a grievance loop.
Needs attention—feeds on screams,
Devours truth and shatters dreams.

Good press, bad press—he eats it the same,
Your fear, your rage, it fuels his game.
Ignore him? He starts to crack.
Feed him? He pulls the world off track.

Turn the lens, shift the frame,
It’s not his circus, not his game.
Look to the streets, hear the cries,
The ones who rise while justice dies.
Filter his noise, decode the spin—
But don’t let him pull you back in.

No light escapes, no fact survives,
He twists the air with constant lies.
Fuel his fire, or shut the show—
It’s up to us to stop the flow.

So let him howl into the void,
Don’t amplify what he’s destroyed.
He’s not a leader. He’s decay.
A black hole dragging us away.

Chant: He’s Not a President
He’s not a president—He’s that loud fool on his fifth Jack Daniel’s, talkin’ tough and sayin’ nothin’
He’s not a president— he’s the worst ex-husband in your worst bad dream
He’s not a president—he’s a vacuum!
He’s not a president—he’s gravity 
He’s not a president—he’s a jet engine in reverse!
He’s not a president—he’s a black hole!
He’s not a president—he just sucks!

Don’t look up, don’t look back,
He’s gravity in a red hat.
Starve the beast, break the trance,
We still have a fighting chance.

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— Joyce

For those of you who love grunge from the 1990's, here’s a grunge version of Black Hole Trump.