Six feet apart

This is... Six Feet Apart

Disconnected and senseless

Me in my spacecraft

You in your spacecraft

Only six feet of space between us

It might as well be three hundred years

Might as be as wide as my fears

I try to feel what you're feeling

Me in my spacecraft

You in your spacecraft

Love is only true to its maker

This was a strange bringing of life to a lyric. First it was never meant to exist.

I had thought the album track listing was complete.

It turns out I had one more thing to say about love.

Then I had the lyrics before the title. That never happened before. I'm no Brad Roberts.

In fact the title was the last and most difficult aspect. But the lyrics were there so needed a title - so they got one.

This song is probably about as dense and creepy as I want my 2nd album with it's pop/rock altgoth sound (y'know, for the kids) to go.

So just as well it is the last one for the album.

I do hope you like it. And accept the title.

Here is
Love Is Only True To Its Maker:

I want love that breaks her

I want love that blinds her

I want love that compels her

 

But my love is Briareos’ sea off Heaven’s shore

But my love is the night time wood in twilight glow

But my love is copper lights hung from a fairground show

But my love is of moonlit gravestone cast shadow

 

My love is not enough for her

And I cannot make it any stronger

 

I need love that cherishes her

I need love that can keep her

I need love that I weep for her

 

But my love is presence of pale candle smoke

But my love is a gemstone laced with extra choke

But my love is light cut prism imprisoned under the cloak

But my love is merely a darkly thrown vow I invoke

 

Mould grows where my love goes

Bitter sting is the flame in icicle froze

My Love is only a truth it’s maker knows

 

My love is not enough for her

And I cannot make it any stronger

 

I have love weakened for her

I have love mortally for her

I have love confined for her

 

Oh! My love is a turret chamber room walled-in

Oh! My love is silent, damp, maddeningly entombed in

Oh! My love does lurk, waits, howls where it is found in

Oh! Perished, putrid, crumbling de-composition

 

My love is not enough for her

And I cannot take this any longer

 

Leave to me my walled-in love

Listen rattles, chains my love

Living ache I feel my love

Bleed Pretty

It is valentines day. The day when love is heart shaped.

Greville And The Tombstones is always about love and, if it existed as a band, it would be the Valentine's Ball band of choice, y'know, for the kids.

Also, as my darling @greebstreebling says: "It wouldn't be Valentine's Day without some dark devotional from you"

So here it is... a new track for my valentine.

It's called Bleed Pretty and is about love. It's a little too sugar sweet, but that's OK today.
We can be sugar sweet today.





Bleed Pretty :

My heart fell rotten from out of me.

Bruised, you picked it up.

You said it was easy for you to love.

You saw a heart for loss and ache from above.

You put my heart back in me

So I could bleed pretty.

My heart beats weak.

Shivers in night shade.

Fearful of a midnight pull.

Trembles with what it can feel.

Love’s edge is serrated

You keep your love sharpened

Because I bleed pretty.

My heart, my very heart.
The more you touch it, the more you possess it.

My heart breaks down.

You slice and expose it.

Peel it strip it.

You will always mend it

Taking care to stich it up so again you can break it

Over n’ over: repair to rip it.

All so I can bleed pretty.

I bleed easy.

I bleed easy for you.

You find the bloodletting pretty.

I bleed far too pretty

~ fin ~

Baby Satan!

This is a typical song for what would be the 2nd album, if there was one. This is Disco-alt-goth-pop. Clearly.

It is probably most likely a "track 5" for the album, if you know what I mean...



















Baby Satan!:

Yeah

The Devils’ best trick sold to us

Is we turn wise instead of dust

In tomorrow we can always trust

Yeah, Yeah

Now the Devil’s great disguise

Is being what you can fantasise

With desperation in demon eyes

Yeah,

Sinners aint winners

So that’s I guess why I’m sayin’

I’m losing this game I’m playin’

… with my Baby, Satan!

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

My Baby, Satan is a preacher

Tells you true, you can reach her

Sincere as a church school teacher

Prayin'... Baby Satan!

Go-go! Go-go demon!

Cotton-candy round finger spun

Eyes so wide, voice pure as a nun

Body forged to tempt a son-of-a-gun

I Don’t Deserve This!

Baby Satan’s here and says I do

And I keep on agreein’

...with My Baby, Satan!

I Don’t Deserve This!

Baby Satan’s here and says I do

And I keep on bein’

...with My Baby, Satan!

I'm Gonna Scare the Man In The Moon

Here is a Halloween track release.

I've always loved Halloween. A Christmas for one's wild side. Lighting ghoulish faced lanterns, playing sticky games and dressing up in scary homemade costumes. Ghosts and witches were the classic costumes, weren't they?

Nowadays it's all sexy nurses and sensual bats and seductive CSI Technicians.

Yes, you can keep your zombie cheerleaders and your play boy devil bunnies. A witch is who I want to be creeping me out under the full moon on All Hallows Eve.

Anyway, I hope you all have a fan(g)tastic and terr(or)ific night and enjoy this lyric. Oh! and remember: the monsters are not in your head. That noise in the other room is something you might not want to investigate until morning.


Anyway, here it is... It's called:

I'm Gonna Scare the Man In The Moon

I’ve been thinking lately, about my grave mortality

About birth and death, and what lies between

Is just earth and breath and Halloween

I’ve been looking up lately, at the man in the moon

“A charlatan faker”, his mean light does accuse

“Lovers’ taker of esteem be your muse”

I’ve been plotting lately, how I’m gonna show him

They really care, and I can find love in their tune

Yeah, I’m gonna scare the man in the moon

I’m gonna scare the man in the moon

Carve the sun

Into a jack-o-lantern

Shine it down onto his face soon

I’m gonna scare the man in the moon

I’ve been grieving lately, on my life’s weed full pathway

Moments passed, opportunities I have betrayed

On all of the fast, tease decisions I’ve made

I’ve been looking up lately, at the man in the moon

His pale grey eyes, shine right down round me,

“witch the flies time night, wary always Be”

I’ve been waiting up lately, long for my right of reply

My lover tells, man in the moon’s tricks are sly

“Witches cast spells, need broomsticks to fly”

I’m gonna scare the man in the moon

Carve the sun

Into a jack-o-lantern

Shine it down onto his face soon

I’m gonna scare the man in the moon

Join me in moonlight, there’s nothing to fear

With you, dear, I could be sincere

I’m gonna scare the man in the moon

With razor teeth

Wizened heart underneath

Like a rotten bud after the bloom

I’m gonna scare the man in the moon

I’ve not been sleeping lately, dwelling on my grave mortality

About birth and death and sorrow, and what lies between

Is just earth and breath we borrow, and Halloween

Well I’m gonna scare the man in the moon

His light gleams onto my impenetrable gloom

Thanks to my amazing Twitter followers for posting me pictures of sultry witches when I asked for help. They inspired me!

If My Love is an Altar, My Lips are Daggers

Here is a Greville and the Tombstones song:
If My Love is an Altar, My Lips are Daggers

To be sung by girls.

I’m hard crushing!

So into you

I’m red blushing!

Should you might

One night

Take up my invite

I’m having all the ghoul kids over

We can try to contact the living

We’ll hold hands Listen to favourite bands

Whatever you want, I’m giving

And I know what they say:

My lips hold a curse they betray

A fate sealed by my kiss

But don’t run away

Boy’s lips lie

Kiss me anyway

I’m having all the ghoul kids over

For a wide eyed candle Séance

We’ll squeeze tight

Can stay together all night

Speak in tongues as Bon Vivants

And I know what they say:

My lips stopped Steve getting away

A fate sealed by my kiss

But don’t run away

Boy’s lips lie

Kiss me anyway

I hear you’re a writer

A poet turned match striker

Words inked to ignite her

Delicate soul

My lips burn hot for you

My waters run deep for you

My eyes turn black as two

Lumps of Coal

I’ll kiss you under beams of destruction

We’ll be perfection in the setting sun

And I know what they say:

My lips made Dave pass right away

A fate sealed by my kiss

But don’t run away

Boy’s lips lie

Kiss me anyway

I’m having all the ghoul kids over

See if we can sacrifice the liars

Down with me lie

A kiss between you and I

Hope so much you don’t die

And I know what they say:

My lips spell out “obitu-aray”

A fate sealed by my kiss

But don’t run away

Boy’s lips lie

Kiss me anyway

Kiss me anyway

Here is the single CD sleeve art:

#thereisnosingle
#thereisnosong
#thereisnoband
#grevilleandthetombstones4eva

 

HEART ERECTION!

Inspiration comes in many guises. The way a girl dances alone in the far corner across the room like she is the music made flesh. Two dragonflies playing only inches above a pond under a watery sun of warming summer morning. A feeling you recognise so well because it comes to you so often you've given it a name. A friend returning from a holiday on Crete with a bottle of Heart Erection Par-Fume which she bought. As I say, who knows where I get my ideas from.





This song is scuzzy lo-fi rock, y'know: for the kids. It's Called:
Heart Erection

 

Heart erection!

Heart erection!

I got me a heart erection!

Whoa-ho!

 

Sundial at noon

The sun rose at noon

And still it rose too soon

 

See

 

I got eyes that flicker low

Candles flame at haunted window

I got teeth I grind hard

Crooked tombstones in a graveyard

 

Woo!

But I’m feeling happy, the evening’s fine

I’ve got this girl’s hand in mine

 

Heart erection!

I got me a heart erection!

Whoa-ho!

 

Oil slick night

Satin dress tight

This bottom lip bite

 

See

 

I’m wired for you girl so bad

With one stroke you switch off my sad

Evil is in the Devil’s plan

I signed the contract to be your man

 

 

Woo!

Devil knows ya can’t spell satin without sin

I can’t see lust without you in

 

See

 

The Devil did well, though I’m off to Hell

It’s worth it for you, And that’s a fact,

To have made this demon lover pact

To turn me into perfection

To give you a heart erection!

 

Oh Yeah!

Heart erection!

I got me a heart erection!

Whoa-ho!

 

Bloodied heart

Four chambered heart

Cannot sever never part

 

Priest best clear his diary for my confession

I got me a heart erection!

I got me a heart erection!

Woo! Woo!

It's the Woo Woo parts that's the kids'll dig the most.

Take me while I’m smiling, black winged birds

It's a summer's day. Here is a song.


It's Called:
Take me while I’m smiling, black winged birds

Blood is draining from my brain

My vision is dim

Take me while I’m smiling, black winged birds!

 

Once I caught the sight of you

When you came in

Take me while I’m smiling, black winged birds!

 

Wishbone corset, bone thin fingers,

Cold, rictus grin

Take me while I’m smiling, black winged birds!

 

Reverb of a tolling churchyard bell

Deep inside, within

 

Oh, immediately I love you!

Oh, immediately a feeling true!

Like a snake bite of sweet venom!

Sadness now a shallow I have swum!

So take me while I’m smiling, black winged birds!

 

The killer heels signal clear

Dance we’ll begin

Take me while I’m smiling, black winged birds!

 

In your direction is a vortex

Gladly I’ll spin

Take me while I’m smiling, black winged birds!

 

At the tunnel’s end, a grave

I will end up in

Take me while I’m smiling, black winged birds!

It’s basically if death was a lovely lady.

The Romantic Masochist

A Typo (www.theretronaut.com)

Valentine's Day was made for this.

A song perfect for this day of love and relationships and perfect for a second album.

This a song about the purest love for someone: altgoth love.
Unrequited love.

This is a love song for you.












It's called:


The Romantic Masochist

This is a song I wrote about a lovely relationship.

It might have needed more hammer.

Please don’t touch me,

Deny me your tender kiss

Because I’m your romantic masochist

Don’t put me out my misery

Because it’s what makes me, me

Your static hard-line stare

Only says to me you care

I’m Hurtin’,  I am Hurtin

But to me, it’s just flirtin

Don’t put me out my misery

Because it’s what makes me, me

Please don’t touch me,

Deny me your tender kiss

Because I’m your romantic masochist

My spirit is a glass blown

Ornament never shown

With a breath, shatter me

I’ll crawl on it, hand ‘n knee

Don’t put me out my misery

Because it’s what makes me, me

I need you to hammer

Home the lover

With a claw hammer

From the shed

Take the hammer

Take the hammer

Hammer home the lover

Until it’s over

Until it’s done

Smell of desperate sweat

Polishing tarnished regret

I am broken and I’m done

But I’ve had, so much fun

Don’t put me out my misery

Because it’s what makes me, me

Please don’t touch me,

Deny me your tender kiss

Because I’m your romantic masochist

And here is the single sleeve art:



A love song that thinks it's dying

Hello.
Here is the best song about love ever written. Or at least it would be if it had a chorus. Or a tune. So it is only possibly the best song about love ever written, but certainly the best song about love ever written by Greville and the Tombstones, at a lunchtime.

I hope you enjoy it.

It's called:

Frog in a Beaker

Is that a flutter in my soul?

Or is it a death twitch?

These days hard to say,

Which is which

So tough to tell,

If I’m sick or well

Am I just feeling calm?

‘fore a comin’ storm?

Skies are always dark

Chill I can’t warm

So got no plan

I’m no weatherman

Future the Present stole

The Past is made of coal

Life goes into a black hole

Is this Devil’s theatre?

Am I playing a part?

A script I can’t follow

Plot hole of the heart

So I lie I confess

You I try to impress

Yeah, your eyes twinkle

In the electric bright

Of this buzzing neon

Gas warnin’ light

So hard to see

What’s hurtin’ me

Love is anaesthesia

Buried dread is amnesia

Lust is involuntary seizure

Hangin’ out with you

Without a care

Chemicals boiling

None too aware

Gettin’ weaker

Like a frog in a beaker

I ain’t noticin’ the situation

Like a frog in a beaker

 


  I have not made a CD cover design for it yet.

Another battler of soulweeds

This is another set of lyrics. Or rather this is not another set of lyrics. If these lyrics were an actress they would be Kirsten Dunst.

Not perhaps the tastefully lit REM video where I (sorry, we) have an invite to fall for the pure innocent essence of Kirsten all over again.


Kirsten *sigh*


No, they would be Kirsten Dunst singing an early 80's hit in a less than comfortable manga p0rny styled music video.



That's why these just are not another set of lyrics.

These lyrics are a continuation of the New Mermaid Sound for the new album and I am fond of them.


This is you favourite imaginary alt-gothic band!!

Another Battler of Soulweeds:

I’m battling the Soulweeds heavy today

Not complaining, I have found a way

As they say

A shallow grave still has heavy soil

The digger needs a spade down with toil

And the dirt feels like clay

For you, I battle Soulweeds

When I think of all your past deeds

You equipped me with all my needs

To go battling Soulweeds

I’m battling hard to even get moving today

As mist on a tune, I hang onto a cold day

It’s all grey

Like a derelict web on a winter tree

I cling shivering onto what used to be

Emotions caught me good

For you, I battle Soulweeds

When I think of all your past deeds

You equipped me with all my needs

To go battling Soulweeds

I’m battling shadows slow-jamming today

Hurt you gave me, Just chemical odelay

I am OK

Your actions planted the seeds

And now I am battling Soulweeds

Just battling against Soulweeds

I’ll face those Soulweeds, they won’t win!

I’ll look them absolute in the eye

I’ll battle those Soulweeds, won’t give in!

I’ll cut them down, watch them die

I’m battling passion storms blowing today

I am in a nihilistic, Combat mood way

Loaded misery

I’m a lone tragedy taking a walk

Tell by bloodied eyes, had ‘nuff talk

About all this today

For you, I always battle Soulweeds!

When I think of all your past deeds

You equipped me with all my needs

To go battling Soulweeds

To go battling Soulweeds

[we battle soulweeds we battle soulweeds we battle soulweeds we battle soulweeds]

God created you mortal but I can sort that, baby

Although the second album is mainly about the new, fan alienating sound, I am not Radiohead and so here is a song kind of more in the style of the old, popular stuff.

I like to think that the protagonist in this sweet put lyric is not a scientist with a lab at all, but a Saturday store assistant in Argos with a large store room (an Argos Extra?) who has had too much opportunity to think about the big questions in life between collection points and as a result has gone a bit odd.

I give you:

God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby

God had all the elements to hand

Rolling atomic particles smaller than grains of sand

Thrown into the void, they were set free

Eventually some of them combined and fused to make you and me

What if we’re not a product of design?

What if all this is just an experiment: X over time?

What if God cares not of your life or mine?

What if God is a Scientist, we mistake notes in jotters as divine?

Made with a timer so we'll all eventually die

Life is so simple to stop and squeeze out a last sigh

Innards fail, madness prevails in milky eye

A scientist needs to find a God Clock vaccine and that scientist is I

God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby

God didn’t make you immortal, but I can if you’d let me

I can put a glass panel in your abdomen bare

Doctors will see your organs healthy pink with no tare

You’ll live forever so long as days remain fair

If you’ll only let me sew solar panels into your long greying hair

God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby

God didn’t make you immortal, but I can if you’d let me

I’ll replace weak flesh muscle for a carbonate part

Giving you motion, a 12 volt battery is only the start

I’ve planned you out on a systematic Gantt chart

Shockproof wheels, springs, pistons and brass valves for a heart

God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby

God didn’t make you immortal, but I can if you’d let me

But if you're to survive, you first need the cut of my knife

Death’s never solved in stories without elegant sacrifice

For you to live, I need to cut out God's clock

Replace it with one I have in the back, from my own stock

God created you mortal but I can sort that, Baby

Live! Live!

I couldn’t stand myself thinking of saying goodbye

I kept you in my lab, knowing Death was a goddamn lie

Stab! Stab! Have to find your clock as moments tick by

As life flows in tubed osmosis, I think I see you leak out a cry

And I cry too,

You see I'm giving you the last clock in store,

Not sure we'll get in any more

I now have someone like you to live for,

So my inevitable death is cruel

The Mermaid See Blues

Unicorns were so last album. That's not what the kids want no more. Now Greville and the Tombstones is bringing Mermaids back.

Yeah - all about the mermaids with the alt-gothic kids.

Here is the first tuneless song for the second not real album by an imaginary alt-gothic band:


The See Mermaid Blues

My soul down as a shipwreck

Shoals of demons swim above

The sunken treasure of my love

I swam through, sweet mermaid,

Seaweed the deadly nightshade

Of sea-witch brew

Wanting to be with you, dear

But far-off stars you wish upon

Are merely fluorescent plankton

Your big eyes paler blue

Than any love so true

That could ever be

I didn't see

They were the bolt not the key

Your sea chest,

Davey Jones locker

I thought you were so attractive

But it was just the refractive

Nature of the water

Oh Yeah, oh yeah

It’s a curse

I see mermaids

There is no second album. Here is the second album cover

We all know there was no first album. And we all saw how that worked out. So it makes sense that there is no second album. That's just philosophy. And potentially mathematics.

The name of the second album is:

Battlers Of Soulweeds, Purveyors of the Ahool

And this is the album cover!

 

 

#thereisnosecondalbum