with Hillary Rodham Clinton and chorus of Democrats
From the tragi-comedy Les Déplorables (forthcoming)
Enter Hillary, wearing Armani and greeting chorus members
Welcome, my friends, sit yourselves down,
And meet the best fundraiser in town.
Clinton Foundation, not what it looks,
We’ll keep your favors off of the books.
Seldom will you see folks like Bill and me,
We grant you influence for your generosity—
Master of the game, I really have no shame,
Ready with a fake smile cause you’re all the same.
Schmooze a Saudi prince, butter up some banks,
Major donor access is how I say “thanks!”
Everybody’s favorite crony, doesn’t cost me to be nice—
In my administration, everything has got its little price.
Charge ‘em for the meet, extra for the greet,
Ten percent for sitting in a front row seat.
Here a little bait, there a little switch,
You have to pay to play till we’re all super-rich—
Foreigners are more than welcome, Lincoln bedroom’s occupied,
Thirty thousand emails, none of which were classified (of course not!)
Master of the game, doctor of the spin,
Huma’s here to keep me on my Coumadin,
I had a little fall, it was nothing much at all,
Soon we’ll celebrate at the Inaugural Ball!
When it comes to wiping servers, there are lots of tricks I know,
But see that ol’ glass ceiling, soon you’ll all be reeling
Feeling how dang powerful I grow!
(Enter Anthony Weiner with laptop: he hands it over to FBI director James Comey, entering from opposite side. As this goes on, Bill and Huma whisper worriedly to each other.)
The Clinton body count, it might increase by one,
As long as no one finds me with the smoking gun,
Champion of the rich, nanny of the State,
All these revelations coming much too late:
I’ve already been anointed; early voting favors me!
It’s in my pantsuit pocket, soon I’ll be the master of D.C!
(full chorus, while Hillary suffers from coughing fit)
Master of the game! Doctor of the spin!
Stonewall for a few more days and then we’re in!
Everybody’s favorite crony! Everybody’s bosom friend!
Grant insider access, raise a buncha taxes,
(All these moral lapses short-circuit my synapses!)
I’m working like a demon and I’ll win!
Author's note: I saw Les Miserables on Broadway as a college senior in 1989; I supported George H.W. Bush in the 1992 campaign that gave us Bill Clinton. I was in the crowd on the WH lawn that welcomed President Bush home from Texas the day after the election. Somewhere between the Whitewater scandal and the Lincoln Bedroom scandal of the first Clinton administration, I became convinced that the Clintons were the Thenardiers, the corrupt innkeepers, of Les Miserables, somehow come to political power in America. This song is the long-incubating result. - Katherine Chapman