Turn on the computer.
Turn on the t.v.
Come and drown your senses in
digital debauchery.
Turn on your lover. Turn on your
desire.
Turn on the pornography and
and play in the fire.
Turn on all the instruments that
feed on energy.
Making moments more intense,
a billion dollar industry.
Turn on your neighbors flashing
money shots for them to see.
Turn on the red light and ensure
the nation has V.D.

The implanted seed feeds the need....
Want it more, appease your greed.
As lust burns so broken hearts bleed.
Please the flesh you think you've freed.

Turn on the radio, music focused
on lust.
Turn on the ignition, San Francisco
or bust!
Turn on each other as they turn up
the game.
Turn on your brother, 'cause of
drugs like cocaine.

Turn me on or turn me loose.
I've been into the devil's juice.
Dance for me, flirt and seduce,
and then suffer my sexual abuse.
Tie your innocence up in a noose,
Turn on the camera, let's see
whats produced.
Hollywood loves to diddle caboose.

Walking in shoes of these
pretentious Jews.
Most of these cons, have paid their
dues. That's all you can do, refuse,
you lose.
Only you can ultimately choose.
Didn't you get the news?

They started a religion and recruited
Tom Cruise.
Such a bad decision, but they need an
excuse.
Turn on The View,
keep the sheeple amused.
Fill all the pews with shrews
chewing cashews.
Turn on the spicket and poor the booze.

These people are often confused.
It shows in their faces, outdated
tattoos.
Turn on the social media...
narcissistic taboos.
Turn on the spooky music...
Because this is all a ruse.

Play me some blues and turn on
the damn fan.
I can't hardly breath in here, how can
the band?
Turn on the pressure...
and blast me with sand.
Turn up the testosterone and
be a man.

Written by: Michael W. Taylor
May 26th, 2024 ©
© Michael W. Taylor