Made in USA

It’s six in the morning
and I got to get going,
I work at an Italian restaurant.
I put on my jeans and
happen to see the tag…
Made in India.
Holy cow! I come half way
across the world and end up buying
a pair made in my own country.
The shirt I see now is
Made in Pakistan—
Ha, the irony of fate.
My shoes come from China, Vietnam, Indonesia? …
Tell me about it.

Well, I have to have the day’s
first cup of caffeine;
Coffee turns out to be from Brazil.

I got into my Toyota…
Yeah, you guessed it right:
Made in Japan.
On the way I stopped for gas,
Maybe, from Saudi Arabia, Iraq or Canada?

Well, at least Hollywood is all American, I guess
So is Playboy, Graceland and Viva La Vegas…Phew!

At work, I start preparing
the meals in pots and pans—
Made in China,
and found most of the veggies
come from Mexico…
We enjoy the fruits of their labor,
But heck, we don’t want them here;
The lawns they cut, the snow they plow,
the roads they help build—
Enough of all that.
We don’t want them getting
under our skin anymore.

Irish pubs, Cuban cigars, Swiss cheese, Italian pizza,
English muffins, Greek gyros, French fries,
Russian vodka, German beer, Indian spices…
Why the heck do I so want to be an American?
I am a man of the world!