She’s Lost Control

Can’t seem to get this wonderful song from the late 1970s out of my head since Saturday afternoon when I saw some crazy woman in a red pant-suit on the television:

The sound quality of this youtube is probably the best…

Confusion in her eyes that says it all.

She’s lost control.

And she’s clinging to the nearest passer by,

She’s lost control.

And she gave away the secrets of her past,

And said I’ve lost control again,

And a voice that told her when and where to act,

She said I’ve lost control again.

And she turned to me and took me by the hand and said,

I’ve lost control again.

And how I’ll never know just why or understand,

She said I’ve lost control again.

And she screamed out kicking on her side and said,

I’ve lost control again.

And seized up on the floor, I thought she’d die.

She said I’ve lost control again.

She’s lost control again.

She’s lost control.

She’s lost control again.

She’s lost control.

Well I had to ‘phone her friend to state her case,

And say she’s lost control again.

And she showed up all the errors and mistakes,

And said I’ve lost control again.

But she expressed herself in many different ways,

Until she lost control again.

And walked upon the edge of no escape,

And laughed I’ve lost control again.

She’s lost control again.

She’s lost control.

She’s lost control again.

She’s lost control.

I could live a little better with permissible (the miserable?) lies,

When the darkness broke in, I just broke down and cried.

I could live a little in a wider line,

When the change is done, when the dare is gone,

To lose control. When the dare is gone…

10 comments

Skip to comment form

  1. …thank you ian curtis et al.

  2. if only she could kick that co-dependent relationship with Bill – she could get it back

  3. but pretty interesting.

  4. …control is an illusion.  No such thing exists.

    And love, love will tear us apart, again.

  5. measures of what? roll those dice and what comes up? Is this all we get? A more perfect control vs a sloppy control. A choice of the same control weirdly defined. Thanks and do not quarrel over the degree, it’s as they love to say the same no difference just more, control? If only.

  6. …this is the song I’ve had stuck in my head:

    My mother said, “You sucked my pussy when you came out

    Don’t ever talk back

    I handed your life and I’ll snatch it back”

    I’m just a latch key kid with a snotty nose

    High school drop out

    Space, I’m around me whiteout

    And I ain’t dealin with no minimum wage

    I’d rather construct rhymes on a minimum page

    Cynical ways, cats sin for nickels these days

    Pulling the chrome out

    And you actin like pullin the chrome out

    Hated the sound of grandma’s cryin the crooked letter

    You could hear it from the ground or when the sky thunders

    Made you wonder ’bout early

    Sunday morning

    Relatives dressed in black and they all mourning

    Flows be bangin in the paint, throwin elbows

    My first fight was me against five boroughs

    I lost my first witch

    But remembered every detail of my first kiss

    That’s that Bronx Tale bliss

    The holiest of holies

    Hip hop, it was ’88

    Even at the age of 10, phrases levitate

    Drinkin Lil’ Hug quarter waters

    Dodgin stray slugs on the corner in that exact order

    While you playin, death is what happens

    I found the passion in aerosol cans and hands clappin

    Backspins, microphones and cats rappin

    Linoleum and up rockers, the show shockers

    Who rip Lee patches off of imposters

    You ain’t the Real McCoy, you a wind up toy

    And it’s gonna cost ya

    And that’s my B-Boy Alpha

    Straight outta the depths of hell

    Reflect the sect

    And inhale the buddah wisdom

    Envision and ? inscriptions of a mega spiritualism

    Paint a picture from the spiritual

    And seriously spit a lyric

    That’ll rip through a physical ligament

    Trigger livin in these city limits

    Limited with no money, goin through crazy minutes

    Crazy thinkin of back in the days

    When blazin a lazy written

    Before we was swallowin duces, poppin with gooses

    And rockin the bubble gooses

    Trouble lose kid, puffin a lucci

    Hoppin off Huffy, stealin Marvel comics and water uzis

    All of us canoing through sewers with juvenile manuevers

    Caught up in nooses from borders with troubleshooters

    On corners where coppers’ll hop outta Dunkin Donuts

    Poppin they gun and shoot us

    For more of us aware of

    Thinkin Rudy Guili don’t give a FUCK ABOUT A MOULE!

    Got me woozy, sippin Kaluha’s loosin my noodles

    Screwed up in the two triple losers

    Sprayin it live, b-boy grafitti alpha

    Out of rap-palooza

    Looza, looza

    Cannibal Ox, “A B-Boy’s Alpha”

Comments have been disabled.