It's Hard To Turn Me On

You turn me on and it's hard to turn me on:

Mornings I tell you what I dreamed

Before we're swalllowed by the work machine,

And spit out in the vening drained half dry

And that is why you turn me on and it's hard to turn me on

We traveled many miles to no guarantee

Everything's a joke to you; it's not that way to me

And Walt Disney cannot make me happy, cannot make me go along

But you turn me on and it's hard to turn me on