Going Fourth

Locals at the barbecue
Grilling up some pounds of flesh
Of human stock, that much is true
But just so long as it tastes fresh

Yankee Doodle just left town
Still not much for being chewed
He will not be roasted brown
Feeling that it's somewhat rude

The locals watch the sky explode
Hanging with the city crowd
One more blast, the final load
Will look exactly like a mushroom cloud.