A Plank in the Platform

There are people in this country

Who really have no sense!

They think there’s a place among us

For hordes of immigrants.

But you and me, we know the truth

And look at them with scorn:

The best success

Of our US

Always came from the native-born.


Send them back,

Send them back!

The only reasons why they’re here

Are stealing jobs from you and me

And adding to our fear.

When I am P-O-T-U-S,

You’ll always hear me say,

There is no room for foreigners in the good old USA.


I’d deport eleven million

And then here’s what I’d do:

To make sure that they don’t come back

I’d build a wall or two.

If you think that’s the answer,

Then I deserve your vote

As the thoughtful man

turned the Rio Grande

Into a giant moat.


Send them back,

Send them back!

Those tortilla-eating thugs!

They only want to pick our fruit

To smuggle in their drugs.

When I am P-O-T-U-S

A new, white day will dawn—

Where voters will do my landscape work

And irrigate my lawn.


But what about your grandpa?

I heard some idiot say.

He was born in Germany

And came to the USA.

I’m proud of my German heritage,

I say to all I know

And thank God with a shout

That he was a kraut

And not from Mexico!


Send them back!

Send them back!

Even if the move is forced—

Think: It’s just reverse migration

And the product is outsourced.

When I am P-O-T-U-S

I’ll make a living hell

For those who get cash

Taking out the trash

At my local Taco Bell!


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