I was out a Mar-a-Lago. Beautiful weather there. Makes real estate really valuable. I was there doing the usual...usual...usual funny word, usual. I'm rocking back and forth on my heels. You ever see that? I rock forward better than anybody. Nobody has ever seen rocking forward like I do. Let me tell you. Crooked Joe can't even ride a bike. I bet I could have won the French Tour. Ya know, I really think so. France, we need a better deal with them.
[Loud offstage cough]
This singer. Swift. Taylor Swift. Swifty Swift. She sings, or she calls it singing. You ever listen to her? I don't know her or her songs. People tell me they are really bad. She's a never-Trumper.
That beautiful beautiful day at Marlbor- Malboro Mar a Lago as some people call it. I was there rocking back and forth. Very forth. Forther than anyone. I'm humming Dixie. Just humming it. You know what humming is? A lot of people don't. And this record producer, famous, I mean famous record producer comes up to me.
"Sir! Mr. President, sir? Can you tell me where that beautiful singing is coming from?" Let me tell you, it wasn't Swifty Swift on the radio. I tell this guy, and he's rich, almost as rich as me. I tell him, "I'm just humming." "Please sir, may I hear it again?" I hum the part about "Oh, I wish I owned some slaves and cotton." He cries. Tears all over his head.
"Mr. President, and you should still be Mr. President, sir, that's beautiful. I love what you do for music. We should make a record for you. Hi-fi. Everything. You could have been the biggest pop singer ever."
Then he made a funny face. I think he smelled Sleepy Joe or maybe that nasty woman Swifty Swifty. He sort of gagged and went away. Big arms for a record producer.