He created man to be a refugee

Cut off from land by wiles of tricky sea,
For Norfolk is deceptive in its tides,
He grabbed my hand and said, just run with me

If we had drowned then now I would not be
In England where our shrill-voiced voters stride,
Cut off by hopes installed by trickery

Nor would I, by Donald vexed,fear, see
How he may ask the Good Lord to abide
He grabbed the votes and said, all lie with me

I shall not argue over cups of tea
About how many immigrants God made;
Cut off from thought by wiles of trickery

I believe that God has no pity
He created man to be a refugee
He gave no hope yet said,hey, worship me!

Oh, haunt of mystics send thy remedies
They’re drowning in the places we can’t see
Cut off from land by tides of your Son’s sea
The dark eyed children drown along with Thee.