Mine eyes have seen vainglory in the president’s dumb tweets,
He is trampling out the vintage of the grapes of wrath he eats,
He hath loosed the feckless lightning of his idiotic bleats:
His lies are marching on.
Glory, glory, to the Donald!
Glory, glory, to the Donald!
Glory, glory, to the Donald!
His lies are marching on.
I have read his fiery gospel writ on tiny cellphone screens,
In a hundred forty characters, this crazy person preens;
He has no mind or heart, but he sure does have a spleen,
His garbage marches on.
(Chorus)
He has sounded forth a trumpet with each and every tweet;
He is savaging every critic, before his judgment-seat;
Oh, be swift, he thinks, to insult them! Be jubilant my feet!
The Donald marches on.
(Chorus)
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me;
In contrast our president is disgraceful as can be.
The nightmare marches on.
(Chorus)
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