No Sanctuary.
When God- and a good photo opportunity calls
Don beats a path to St John’s soot-stained walls
Where over those peaceably gathered a shadow falls.
Here’s where his political salvation may be found,
Don feels the need to make a stand on holy ground;
Strange, when odds are he’s downward bound.
Donald might not have bent a knee in years
But see him wave that bible as the smoke clears,
Christ alone knows this disservice will end in tears.
