Control

A friend of mine wrote a poem
About his early twenties
And the line that always gets me is
"When I look back on this time
I see myself as being completely out of control"

I feel like it's slipping out of my fingers too
But it's not late nights and undiscipline
It's waking up and going to work
It's structure with no time
It's an early adulthood wasted in later adulthood

Could I start again?
With all my possesions
Last count - thousands of CDs
Guitars, pianos and books.
I couldn't live without my books.
And there's vinyl
And clothes.

I could lose some but how can I
Throw out that John Reed Club one that Andy gave me
Or that funny one with the Shakespeare quote
"speak low when you speak of love"
That I bought at the Opera House
That I wore when I asked her out in High School
And she said yes

And jackets, the half dozen of them
That people recognise as me more than my face
And the TV, you'll never find another one
That good for that cheap.
Those DVDs I've got from the states.
Couldn't buy those again
And friends and family.

If it was for something then yes.
For a job, or for a girl.
Or maybe just go
Like that picture of Billy Bragg
at a train station somewhere
With a backpack, guitar
And sitting on a little amp
Because it's Billy Bragg after all

Maybe I've dug myself in and I didn't notice
My world shrunk but I shrunk with it
I've got all my homewares and entertainment
A steady income, a series of actvities
All the mod cons and signs of consumption
I'm young, successful, living well
And I see myself as being completely out of control