A lonely girl sleeping in soot and mud
Head teeming with sugary dreams
Of pretty American ladies and handsome American men
Sipping tea from gold enameled cups

It tastes of the tears
That catch on her mother’s gray-streaked hair
As the girl bends down to kiss her wrinkles
For the last time

It tastes of the gilded horizon line
Whose golden shell begins to rust away
As the girl reaches across the ocean with her eyes

It tastes of the bitter curses
That she shouts at some higher body
Passersby glare at her
For tainting their American air

It tastes of the tears of anguish
That leak from her tired eyes
And join the other garbage in the sewer
Behind the restaurant