Control

Avarice is our society's fuel and engine oil.

It has a tendency to grow the economy and spoil

Every last inch of our souls and insides,

Making people spend their lives on the things that they buy,

So I trained myself out of it eight years ago July.

Living the modern definition of desire got old,

Trading my life away for my means of control,

But I didn't quite manage to get away,

Because you influence my thoughts of past and future from today,

and I would gladly accept you as my ball and chain,

Hopelessly enamored with my constraints.