Shake your hands little man
Rumble rumble rumble.
Shock proof and submerged
I’ve become a yellow alien
Lost in a foreign land.
Shake it in a glass pint of feel good yellow
Until it hurts so hard nutshell
There begins quite a rumble.
Put your guns outside now,
The blood is run down.
Bitter is the agent of change;
A sour heart upon edges of my spine.
My yellow in the midst of your confusion.
An iron, coyly, in a state of disconnect
And my flattening ceases, rumble rumble.
I hope you found the keys –
Open sitting etched wooden door.
Explanations come out
Flight from a thousand monarch butterflies
In a thousand shades of yellow.