My COUNTRY TWEETS OF THEE

My country tweets for thee,
Land of depravity,
Oh such calamity.
Land where his father lied!
Land where Don learned to hide!
From all his tall buildings,
May he earn shillings!

His native country, thee,
Land of his conspiracy,
This game he loves.
Don loves his crooks and shills,
His hoods and cash tills;
His coffers with stash fills
Whose to judge.

Let Trump shoot the breeze,
And see what falls from trees
Sweet conman's song.
Lest mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe forsake;
Let cops enforce or threaten to break,
Can't none stand long.

Don, with your majority,
Hatched from a minority,
No hope can spring
Long may this Bigley be bright
Well past America's twilight;
Infecting us all with his blight,
God, such fucking!