Looking down on a Cowtown

Oh the square, the city square,              
I know it well, wait a minute              
that’s not right, its over there              
where I'm walking              
in my funny              
bunion shoes,              
             
I cross the street              
where again there's an idiot,              
             
yet the titillating pavilion,              
sweet sweet sweet, which suite eats              
the doughnut treats, roger wilco              
that man looked funny at me,              
             
what,              
so what,              
high up,              
high up,              
             
gallivanting with the doughnut box              
containing raised images of naked men              
shocked in various poses wearing masks              
in suggestive bondage with jerky noses              
high up, I'm delivering donuts              
               
for friend              
and foe,              
fo'sho,              
fo'sho,              
               
out of my way,              
not a problem              
ah at last              
I'm strolling                
hello elevator,              
simon says get on,              
oh god, oh no,              
and mind,              
        don’t you say a              
fucking word,              
about that crack,              
       to              
no one,              
now move it you dimwit,              
             
the pitch was off a few days back,              
he said step over it – dear god              
mego – genomics – no-mas as the sea              
sequestered the door, it shuts, then slams              
I'm spinning drunk but not bored              
             
down with the Lord,              
thank you Physics             
             
for the micro domes of neurology              
and far beyond, I erupted               
my gut instinct to the mystery              
of cellular vaults, in fact,              
             
going up,              
going up,              
              
where the pitch is severe, teal              
with red socks and a bowl of sugar pops,              
             
what the hell, now I have to get off              
step over it carefully, don't get              
thoughtlessly sucked down the shaft              
I laugh I laugh, off and running to              
deliver the citizen's donuts again,              
money money money              
and the people are wondering,              
             
where              
have you,              
I've been              
             
walking in my funny bunion shoes              
again he's an idiot I'm sure              
they're thinking, that guy is smelly              
like a hairy gorilla over there,  
I deliver the donuts to the office pups,              
I care I care, big dogs, little dogs,              
             
wassup              
wassup              
wassup              
             
where’s your window, here you go,              
here's your donuts, just set them there              
let me see it,              
             
high up              
high up,              
looking down,              
               
on the Cowtown, a million miles away I lean in              
on the glass, I could have been killed you know.