They can turn you on and make you move but they can’t make you love.
They can flip the switch and make you twitch, to get a rise out of,
You, making a sport of you, letting you twist and turn, yearn and burn for,
The husk of what was once your dreams. And you fight and you spite, and do things you abhor,
Drinking and drugging, nutting and running, never at home when you’re at home,
Just keep yourself silent, no one’ll think you’re a fool, and one day you can make this a poem.