Not-So-Big Ben

I wanted to buy a new dining room table, some chairs to go with it, a hutch –
Just 31 thousand for all of these pieces; I didn’t think that was so much.
If Trump comes for chow, then the protocol is that the Cabinet head entertains.
So it’s painful that I, an esteemed neurosurgeon, is stuck with the tag “Shit For Brains.”

It’s been over a year since I took on the job to command and reorganize HUD.
But by most accounts, I have not done so well – even POTUS thinks I am a dud.
With such a big budget; so many employees (and most who won’t do what I tell ‘em).
It’s tougher, for sure, than removing a glioblastoma from your cerebellum.

It’s said that I may be in over my head – one of Trump’s poorer choices for Cabinet.
But despite all the critics who say I should quit, loud and clear let me say: I’m not havin’ it.
I keep wife and son by my side, since there’s few in this town you can trust – there aren’t many.
Family ethics will not be a problem at all, since it’s easy when you don’t have any.

When I was a doctor, I had fame and fortune; some folks even called me a hero.
But since I’ve engaged in political wrangling, my Q-score has dropped close to zero.
I wanted to do something nice for myself (and perhaps make compatriots drool).
But you know what they say: doctors treating themselves will undoubtedly look like a fool.

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