Yolk Buns U.S.A

Yolk Buns U.S.A
Yolk Buns U.S.A
Wiping the sweat off his face
Looking at
Reading a book of one of his forefathers
Picking the wings of dead insects out of his teeth

Combing back his hair glazed like a donut
Blinks away high in the air
Sonic screams of high art everyday

Yolk Buns U.S.A
Yolk Buns walking in circles
Shouting at him before

Stench of exotic places
Knowing where he's been