He’s slimy and he’s weasly;
he hasn’t got much hair.
He waltzes in to kick some ass
to show he has a pair.
Stormed into the Peninsul’
and now has control there.

We wonder if this chap’ll
move apace with conquest zeal
He needs more space to do his thing,
the oligarchy steal,
and further, to display tits
from which Viktor sucks a meal.
The region has just acquired a new daddy;
there’s no paternity test for this dad. . .
usurper’s name is Vlad.

How do you solve a problem like Crimea
when it’s grabbed by a clown who won’t back down?
You cannot fine a scourge that rapes Crimea.
He’s kleptocratic, may plan to steal more ground.
Many do think the dude’s a nasty fella;
many do think he’s pretty underhand.
We can’t make him go away;
he may have other forays
in mind like the one in Black Sea port he planned.
So, how do you solve a problem like Crimea
before the thing gets way more out o' hand?

By the sanctions, he’s amused—
he and crooked pals have moved
rubles to Suisse with its neutrality scam.
All the wrist slaps they will weather
’cause they’ve all banded together.
Law-inviolate, they won’t go on the lam.

Each has got a feathered nest;
Vlad shows off his vest-free chest.
And Crimea has become part of his world.
It’s true: you can take the child
out of the KGB vile
but can’t take it out of boys who’re in it hurled.