Pure Punk

Regurgitated
Manufactured
Sex sells 
No imagination captured

Girl bands 
Boy bands 
They're all the same
Prostitutes to record labels
Enslaved and on the game

There's good music out there 
I have no doubt 
Please break free of Saturday night TV 
Sit in silence 
Do without 

Are you even listening to the music?
Or distracted by how they girate?
This molestation of the ears
Leads me to self medicate

Maybe I'll go and see my friends
And maybe smoke some skunk
Let my thoughts 
Become slurred
Like an obnoxious drunk

Sometimes I feel I'm loosing my last marble 
In a game of Kerplunk
For me, the only pure music left on this Earth...

 
Is PUNK!