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