Trump Hymn
I'm but a shithole here,
Heaven is my home;
Earth is a desert drear;
Heaven is my home:
Danger and sorrow stand
Round me on every hand;
Heaven is my fatherland,
Heaven is my home.
What though the tempest rage,
Heaven is my home;
Short is my pilgrimage,
Heaven is my home:
And time's wild wintry blast
Soon shall be over past;
I shall reach home at last,
Heaven is my home.
There at my Saviour's side,
Heaven is my home;
I shall be glorified,
Heaven is my home.
There are the good and blest,
Those I love most and best;
And there I too shall rest,
Heaven is my home.
Therefore I murmur not,
Heaven is my home;
Whatever my earthly lot,
Heaven is my home:
And I shall surely stand
There at my Lord's right hand:
Heaven is my fatherland,
Heaven is my home.
Imagine for a moment hearing Donald Trump (the impression of Trump through Alec Baldwin) singing this hymn written in the 1830s. Only, the original word “stranger” is replaced with the President infamous word “shithole”.
When you the read the rest of the lyrics to this hymn, it sounds like the earth is worthless to us common folk. The home we have in Heaven. When you hear President Trump sing in your head while reading the lyrics; it sounds like he mocking refugees and immigrants. Mind you, this hymn was written around the 1830s when immigration was a new concept in the world; including America. They knew there was the Middle East, just a little knowledge of their future connection to terrorism. The author wrote this hymn while dealing with an illness leading to his death. He was thinking about going to Heaven, rather than dealing with issues happening in the future after his death.
What the President and even other oppose to him don’t understand; we are shitholes. In a definition, we are refugees or decedents of refugees. No one ever went through the Trump family tree to see if the ancestral line started in America. It not just the family tree; people take refuge from despair. A refuge from opioid habits. You know, the problem that slowly killing the world. Along with the problems of hunger, war, and vanity. The depression epidemic is a fine example in taking refuge from. We and the President take refuge in the doubt of their homeland. The doubt the problems just mentioned, along with a changing earth, a strong dislike for other US citizens and a cool culture to kill boredom.
Like it or not by President Trump or the American people; the first line from an ancient hymn should stick like glue for these times. For we are shitholes, a refugee from any place and/or issue going on today.
