by Stephen Gold

The crowd adored Him bigly,
And love was all He preached,
So frankly, it’s just niggly,
To have the guy impeached.

For years we had a diet
Of crap from the elite.
So what’s a little riot?
Let’s make ‘em feel the heat!

We’re heading ever higher,
For truth knows no embargo.
Though our adored Messiah
Is beached in Mar-a-Lago,

We’re on the side of history.
Our day is gonna come.
You say His fame’s a mystery?
You say He’s just a bum?

Be sure that He’ll prevail.
Beware His righteous rancor.
(And should He land in jail,
By God, we’ve got Ivanka!)