Flick of the switch

a flick of the switch

You gaze upon her dominant soul.
No pity, no woe—you lose all control.
She’s in command; your lights are out.
A flick of the switch, there is no doubt.

Now she has her prize in hand.
She raises your pole; she’s in command.
She lowers herself—your disgrace complete.
You’re meek, you’re nothing, obsolete.

A flick of the switch, she laughs, in control.
She rides you out, your body her toll.
Now you are hers, and heavens roll.
You meek man—she’s in control.