SOme CAll Me ToNy

Ramblings, thoughts, ideas. My ways of killing time and not people.


April 2015


Thoughts like leaves drifting when you try to unwind
Cluttering up all the worlds within your mind
Far gone days, head’s in a haze letting
Go of the here and now to think about pains Getting
Over it to go over and over it
Over and over it until your head’s gonna split
All the blacks and whites and ups and downs
The crying faces and lying clowns
Strung up minstrels and beat down drums
The easy blonde and brunette with the great
Teachers yelling and preachin and tryin
You’re just running and hiding and screaming and lying
But in the happy here it’s almost romance
The great plot for a film with a dance
You’re the star, writer, director, the works
Life goes your way if you put in enough work


Percivil Rotjaw

So I wrote this a couple of years ago just on a whim whilst listening to Murderdolls. Well, everyone that’s seen it says they like it so what the heck. 

Percivil Rotjaw never
did speak;

And his slow, heavy
walk made the floorboards creek;

He walked along with
his arms stretched out;

And he moaned and he
groaned when there were humans about;

He always did sound
like he was in terrible pain;

And the only thing he’d
eat was freshly picked brain.

Now, one frosty night
he went out on a limb;

He walked but a hunter
was following him;

This gun-wielding man
was a hunter, the best!

And he shot poor
Percivil straight through his chest;

Mr Rotjaw turned and
looked him straight in the eye.

Do you know what
happened? Well, the human did die.

Now, Percivil never
goes out anymore;

But we still hear the
squeak of the boards in the floor;

He still moans and he
groans and brains he still crave;

And in his backyard is
Percy’s old grave.


A thousand butterflies half in their cocoons
Gonna go mad if I don’t finish something soon
Half sewn Frankensteins strewn across the floor
Left a trail from the bedroom to the door


All your stars are satellites.


It’s all in your head,
All your pain and misery,
We pray and hope that on one day,
You’ll wake and it’ll go away,
But that day is nowhere near,
It all just seems so far away,
And right now we have other things,
Like love and sex and bills to pay,
We don’t care for that happy day,
In fact right now it all seems like a fantasy,
It’ll never really happen,
To anyone or me,
So we’ll keep working and saving and collecting for nothing,
As we work into the ground and die unhappy,
So much wealth and yet no fun,
To change it would get nothing done.


You’re the one that makes me less alone
You pull me out and act like home

In a crowd of faceless noise
You’re my anchor, I’m your toy
Too weak to help in any way
Keeping my thoughts away

I know if it was me
Just me, only me
I wouldn’t care at all
I’ve given up
I’m good to fall
But because of you I’m still here
You’re the only thing I still hold dear
Although I’m not always near
You’re always needed
Always wanted
Unless you leave
Then my need will go unheeded
Unanswered pleas for life
But that’s okay
A lone tree dying in a wood
Can still do the land some good
Giving rabbits a place to die
By the roots and trunk, to lie
Lost chances, no regrets
What’s left to happen yet?
Done it all by nineteen
Five years dead
Six explained
The world grows ever more estranged


Wanting to scream
Wanting to cry
Head filled with dreams
Heart wants to die

Laying in bed
Unable to rise
Poisoning good with more stupid lies
It’s all so trivial
Paper cup crowds
The noise of the world
Isn’t so loud
Walking the streets
Heads down
Hands out
Nobody speaks
No laughter about
Grey rooftop city
With decaying smiles
From bed back to bed
Travelling miles
Circular life
Repetitive worlds
Same old routines
One’s come unfurled
He doesn’t fit in
He doesn’t want gold
He’d rather lay down
In the grass wet and cold
Cold is a feeling
He barely recalls
It existed one night
Or did it at all?


The palest parts of my wrists still spell out your name
This shattered broken glass heart reflecting only pain
I’ll close my eyes and cover them so you won’t see my soul
A thousand days of tortured love you gave to me then stole


Repetition is claustrophobic
Routine is death
Like the same old songs
Make me wish I was deaf

Bars on windows and shrinking walls
Falling ceiling and burning floors
Watching the same film over and over
When will it end?

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