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

They put mirrors up
to create the illusion of space
They cover plastic toys
With wooden patterned paint

“I’ve got my own double cross to bear”
-Tom Waits

How do Comedians stand the same jokes every night?
My favourite ones all wanted to die

I might not be drunk
But I’m going to be fucking your girlfriend later
Now that’s magic

If I didn’t have a name
Everything would stay the same
Except I would never have to talk to anybody again

Wouldn’t life be sweet
If the people on the streets
Will never ever become a person you’ll meet

Tim Oxley via Lucinda Williams…

Lonely boys, lonely boys

Frozen dinners are thawed out by lonely boys
Dirty clothes are worn by lonely boys

Lonely boys, lonely boys
Self destruction and lonely boys
paranoia follows lonely boys

Lonely boys, lonely boys
Sweet sad songs sung by lonely boys
I ought to know about lonely boys

I lost you
But I found country music
I found country music to hold me and sooth me
The way you used to do

I miss you
but luckily there’s music
Luckily there’s music
to get me through

I think of you
Every day of my life
And every day I miss you and wonder and guess
What you are listening to

And every day I miss you and wonder and guess
What you are listening to

What you are listening to

Dear Pantene Hair Girl

you have no idea how seeing your face lights up my day
you do strange things that show me we’ll never be together
like how your choice of snack is apples and Vita Brits
Whereas I’m down to one meal a day
And usually it’s microwaved for one

I hope that doesn’t come across wrong
but a pretty face does is light
and it might be mean for me to ask for no more
but I’m not done with my lonely life yet
and it would never work

but it’s like those songs
that say the same thing only better
how you’re so beautiful that it must’ve been the work
of something better
than me
anyway

So I’ll keep seeing you
and try to not melt at the knees
as I exchange a casual hello
and hold myself back
from showering you with presents
that implies I promise I wont keep

I’m sorry, but you make me happy
or at least happier
and I’m using you
because you’re beautiful

Wasted a day
Wasting away