Radio Repertoire

I'd prefer you to speak English,
Before you start to spout verse at me,
Your words are a curse on the dictionary,
You seem to have made up a language,
To help with your silly little rhymes,
It's a god awful mess, a sign of the times,

You polloute the airwaves with mind numbing songs,
I'd like to smash your vocabulary to where it belongs,
Out of the universe and into the abyss,
You make me feel nauseous, your soul is amiss

To me, the sound of a drowning cat
Would be an improvement on you,
You progress to a mess, you haven't a clue,
You can get anywhere these days with a robotic tone,
You sound like a drone and infect my zone,
You make an advancement to a voice enhancement,

You're a phoney, you're a crook,
And money's all it took.