Bloomy Tom Distorted

BLOOMY TOM DISTORTED (reworking of instrumental track by Silvio Vinci) Tom came down on a Saturday night, boots full of dust and his head too light, radio screaming from a Chevrolet, he said, “Don’t ask questions — just get outta my way.” He had a black coat, a crooked smile, a broken watch running backwards all the while. Bloooomy Tom — distorted! Shake it till the walls come down. Bloooomy Tom — distorted! Turn that dirty sound around. Neon buzzing over number nine, cheap red wine and a warning sign, someone shouted, “Tom, you lost your mind!” He just laughed and left the world behind. Bloooomy Tom — distorted! Nothing straight and nothing clean. Bloooomy Tom — distorted! Living somewhere in between. Turn it up! Let it crack! Push it forward — don’t look back! BLOOMY TOM! BLOOMY TOM! DISTORTED! He disappeared when the morning came, left three chords and a burning name. Bloooomy Tom — distorted… Bloooomy Tom — distorted… Turn it up. Turn it up. Turn it up…