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Battle Hymn of the Heartsick

Mine eyes have seen the horror of the coming of the Trump;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of Truth ain’t plump;
He has loosed the fateful lightening of a grope upon the rump,
His “Truth” is lurching on.

Lord above, I don’t believe it!
Lord above, I don’t believe it!
Lord, I hope he don’t achieve it!
His “Truth” is lurching on.

I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred migrant camps;
ripping out all of the pages where their passports have been stamped;
I can see him mocking women when they suffer menstrual cramps,
His “Truth” is lurching on.

Lord above, I don’t believe it!
Lord above, I don’t believe it!
Lord, I hope he don’t achieve it!
His “Truth” is lurching on.

I have read a birth certif-cate writ as plainly as can be;
The president of this great land was born in Hawai’i;
the man is an American, the same as you or me,
His “Truth” is lurching on.

Lord above, I don’t believe it!
Lord above, I don’t believe it!
Lord, I hope he don’t achieve it!
His “Truth” is lurching on.

He has sounded from the soapbox that a mighty wall shall rise,
And that Mexicans will pay for it all right before our eyes.
Oh! Be swift, my soul, to answer him, and say I’d be surprised.
His “Truth” is lurching on.

Lord above, I don’t believe it!
Lord above, I don’t believe it!
Lord, I hope he don’t achieve it!
His “Truth” is lurching on.

From the bosom of New York The Donald sprang into this life,
slurping on a sil-vry spoon and poised to cause us strife;
I surely hope The Donald never ever meets my wife
While he is leching on.

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