TRUMP SAYS ALL ABOARD THE BUS TO RECESSIONVILLE
(A Parody of Jimmy Buffett's "Margaritaville")
Once upon a time, in a land where golden escalators were portals to dreams and Twitter was a presidential decree machine, there existed a man with a flair for the dramatic and a knack for, well, "creative" economics. His name? Donald J. Trump. And one day, as he gazed upon his kingdom of red hats and Diet Coke cans, he had an epiphany: "Folks, I've got the best idea. The BEST idea. We're going on a trip. A YUGE trip. All aboard the bus to Recessionville!"
Nibblin' on fast food,
Tossin' out tweets crude,
All of my yes-men keep noddin' in place.
The markets are tankin',
While billionaires are bankin',
And I’m just here workin’ on my poker face.
**Chorus:**
Wastin' away again in Recessionville,
Searchin' for that next tax cut to shill.
Some people claim it’s the Fed we should blame,
But I know... it’s my own big thrill.
I don’t have a reason,
To plan for next season,
The deficit’s bloated but who really cares?
I’ll just keep on braggin’,
While the economy’s laggin’,
And blame it on anyone who stares.
**Chorus:**
Wastin' away again in Recessionville,
Searchin' for that scapegoat to grill.
Some people claim it’s the media’s game,
But I know... it’s my ego to fulfill.
Big buses are rollin’,
While futures are stolen,
The workers keep workin’ but they’re feelin’ the squeeze.
Stock buybacks are thrivin’,
CEOs high-fivin’,
And I’m here just munchin’ on my Mickey D’s.
**Chorus:**
Wastin' away again in Recessionville,
Searchin' for a soundbite to instill.
Some people claim it’s the immigrants’ name,
But I know... it’s my own free will.
So hop on the bus now,
Ignore that big bust now,
We’ll ride this thing straight off a cliff with some flair.
The rich get their tax breaks,
The poor get their heartaches,
But hey, I’ve still got that great orange hair!
**Final Chorus:**
Wastin' away again in Recessionville,
Searchin' for someone else to foot the bill.
Some people claim it’s the globalists’ shame,
But I know... it’s my circus to thrill.
The first stop on the journey was Inflation Junction, where everything cost double but was marketed as “luxury pricing.” Trump hopped off the bus to make a speech. "Look at these prices! Aren't they beautiful? Inflation is just another word for success. When things cost more, it means they're worth more! You're welcome, America."
Meanwhile, Melania wandered into a boutique and emerged holding a $10,000 handbag. "This is on sale," she said flatly. The crowd applauded her thriftiness.
Back on the bus, things started to get bumpy—literally and figuratively. Gas prices skyrocketed so much that Jerome Powell had to pull over and siphon fuel from a parked Prius. "This is fine," Trump said confidently. "We’re making America great again—one overpriced gallon at a time."
The next stop was Layoff Lane, where factories stood abandoned and “Help Wanted” signs had been replaced with “Good Luck” posters. Trump stepped off the bus with his signature thumbs-up pose. "Folks," he announced, "this is what winning looks like! No jobs mean no stress! You don’t have to work if there’s nowhere to work! It’s genius!"
A man in overalls raised his hand. "But… how am I supposed to pay my mortgage?"
"Easy," Trump replied. "Just don’t pay it! That’s what I did six times with my casinos. Works like a charm."
"Huh. Makes sense."
As the bus rolled into its final destination—Foreclosure Forest—Trump stood at the front like a captain steering his ship into an iceberg. "Look around!" he declared. "This is what freedom looks like! No rules! No regulations! Just pure American chaos!"
The passengers looked out their windows at rows of repossessed homes and shuttered businesses. Karen from seat 12B raised her hand cautiously. "Mr. President," she asked, "what exactly is the plan to get us out of Recessionville?"
Trump smiled broadly. "Plan? There is no plan! That’s the beauty of it! Plans are for losers and Democrats."
The crowd erupted in applause because apparently logic had been left behind at the first rest stop.
As the trip came to an end, Trump stood at the front of the bus one last time. "Folks," he said, "this has been an incredible journey. The best journey. And remember: if anyone asks why you’re broke or why your house got repossessed or why your 401(k) is now a 201(k), just tell them it’s someone else’s fault."
The passengers cheered weakly as they disembarked into the wreckage of Recessionville—a town where dreams went to die but were quickly rebranded as “alternative successes.”
And as Trump waved goodbye from the bus window, he shouted one last thing: "Don’t forget to vote for me in 2028! I’ll fix all this—I promise!"
The bus drove off into the sunset—or maybe it was just a dumpster fire in the distance—and Karen turned to her husband with a sigh.
“Well,” she said, “at least we got a song out of it.”
