Convictus

Out of the night a black vice POTUS, a cry of hope from poll to poll- wrapped in our flag we know they loath us and our unconscionable goal. In the fell clutch of discrimination we hear them wince and cry aloud. Within our bludgeoning, christian nation their heads are bloody, ja, und cowed. Let them sulk in their vale of tears We’ll never let them turn the page. No prospect of getting four more years finds ,and shall find us howl with rage. Again we’ll make our country great, what matter we lose our nation’s soul? He is the master of our fate— wir gibt unser Fuhrer ganz kontrol.