Didn’t Obama look great
In two thousand and eight
But by god, he looks tired now.
The weight of the world
Has since then been hurled
Upon his poor lonely shoulders

Two terms in power
And stacked sleepless hour
Has started his hair to fade
The stress trying to fix
A world as broken as this
Has left lines under the poor man’s eyes

Obama looked great
In two thousand and eight
But my word, he needs a rest now.