To the tune of “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” by Gordon Lightfoot

THE WRECK OF THE ‘SS FULL MAGA’

The legend lives on from Bowling Green on down
Of the big lake they called Sinky Trumpy
Lake Travis, it’s said, never gives up her dead
When the lakes of September turn bumpy
With a load of full bores, twenty six thousand tons more
Than the ‘SS Full MAGA’ weighed empty
That good ship and true painted red white and blue
When the waves of November came early

The ship was the pride of the north Dallas burbs
Sailing back from a rally in Irving
As motorboats go, it was bigger than most
With a captain and crew - more than twenty
Their MAGA hats on, but of masks, they had none
When they left fully loaded for Austin
And later that night when the ship’s bell rang
Could it be the blue wave they’d been lost in?

With covfefe strong, all the boats sailed along
Flying Trump flags from every railing
The waves rose up high but they zoomed right on by
All the libtards alongshore, a-wailing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
Twas the witch of November come stealing!
Kamala’s her name and they see her dark flame
Lighting up the skies o’er Sinky Trumpy

The boats were too close - two or three feet at most
And the big waves began now a buildin-
The little boats sank, people fell in and drank
The dark waters of gloomy Lake Travis
When suppertime came the old man came on deck sayin
Magas, it’s too rough to feed ya
But at 7 pm when the hatchway caved in, he said
Magas, it’s been good to know ya!

The captain, he cried out to call 9-1-1
But his iphone could not get a signal
He sent off a text and he tried WhatsApp next
But the good ship and crew were in peril
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the SS Full MAGA
Does anyone know where a Trumper can go
To find someone to hear his sad saga?

The searchers all say they’d have made it that day
If they hadn’t drunk so much Sam Adams
Of twenty white men, none that knew how to swim
We searched for ‘em deep in the fathoms
They might have split up or they might have got swamped
It might have been sharks that have got ‘em
Now all that remains is the faces and the names
And the Trump flags stretched out on the bottom

The legend lives on from Bowling Green on down
Of the big lake they called Sinky Trumpy
Lake Travis, they said, never gives up her dead
When the waves of November come early!