Butt moss slips, actually algae, he called you, Elma
Chai teenagers rendezvous on the Bosphorous
My waist expands, my waste a frothy head of spun sucre, sugar of fire,
The gates in Asia keep us out, but the security cameras keep us in
Cat count keeps rising...
Filthy viewfinder clouds finding giant television
It shows us media is Sultan across the Bosphorous
It would swallow us whole
While the giant eye watches while being watched
Heathens drown...
In delight, Turkish Delight
The Lira is not real, it is SUE|like| water
We do not drink as much as we should
Navigating the call to prayer...
My hair as soft as candy that we pop like pills,
Turkish Sheiks are we, shabby Americans underneath
Tesekkür ederim, teasugar eredem, tea sugar airy demI fed a lamb, I fed a pyro
