My Wall

(After “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”)

Mine heart is filled with terror at the coming of the hoard;

They are crossing our fine border with their drugs and guns restored.

They are rapists, thieves, and murderers, and so they are abhorred.

My wall is going up.


I cut the aid to Central A to save us some fine dough.

But who knew it would drive up the druggies straight through Mexico?

We restrained the Blacks and sent them back to our man old Jim Crow.

My wall is going up.


Call National Emergency and never sound retreat.

Build the wall so tall with bigotry and hate-filled fine concrete.

If we let them in, they’ll flood our land and ruin my great deceit.

My wall is going up.

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