When I was ten I thought my brother was God - he'd lie in bed and turn out the
light with a fishing rod I learned the names of all his football team, aid I
still remembered them when I was nineteen
Strange the things deal that I remember still - shouts from the playground when
I was home and ill My sister taught me all that she learned there; when we
grow up, we said, we'd share a flat somewhere
When I was seventeen, London meant Oxford Street
Where I grow up there were no factories there was a school and shops and some
fields and trees, and rows of houses one by one appeared I was born in one and
lived there for eighteen years
Then when I was nineteen I thought the Humber would be the gateway from my
little world into the real world But there is no real world - we live side by
side, and sometimes collide
When I was seventeen, London meant Oxford Street It was a little world; I grew
up in a little world