Born Instrument

I am a born instrument 
c'mon and tune me up
turn me on and point me in the right direction
washing dishes
taking time to write
dreaming of softer sheets
I love my kitten
I hate my father
syrup tastes better when it's warm
opening windows
planning events
I need more charcoal
more motivation
more energy
more power
plug me in, tune me up, turn me on
point me in the right direction
cutting my own hair
growing my own beard
waking up
wishing you would kiss me
in the morning, after sex
I don't care what your breath smells like
it doesn't matter who you are 
growing old
winding down
CHARGE ME UP!!
PLUG ME IN!
I'M READY TO BE AMPLIFIED!
I'm so much taller on my soapbox
I'm shorter than you expected
my eyes are green right now
my feet sweat
walking home
drinking bourbon
crashing cars
human beings
mercenary death squads
special forces
sleeper cells
square footage
white noise
and a boy with a runny nose
sipping tea
pretending to like it
I want to be closer to you 
I’m no hero
I’m no coward
a slave to my emotions
c'mon and tune me up
turn me on
and point me in the right direction