Young Poet Toby Thompson’s Track ‘Moments’ with Lyrics

20 year old Spoken word artist and rap­per Toby Thompson is an emer­ging artist. Its with such a fear­less deliv­ery and lyr­ic­al pas­sion that makes his track ‘Moments’ one that res­on­ates.

LYR­ICS:

Moments

These moments nev­er last
I was doz­ing in the grass last week
Now I’m frozen in the ras klaat street!
Wait, no, I’m toasty in a bath, ah sweet
And it was din­ner just then but now its half past three
These moments nev­er last
I’ll be dead before I know it
Laid before my closest
Forever more a memory
A present for the worms
I’m scared of being demoted to the under­world
Fuck­ing hell, I’m ter­ri­fied of going where the sun can­not get
And where forever ‘aint an abstract con­cept
I’m not ready for the back to black onset
And so I’m busy­ing myself
Through the days I’m writ­ing rhymes
At night I’m pil­la­ging my health
Ah, and you can see it in the dirty whites
Of my blurry eyes, that I’ve got the urge to fight
Yeah, but actu­ally, may­be I’d prefer to just light
Up a fat head and watch the world hurtle by
These emo­tions nev­er last
I’m so impossibly change­able
I’m hon­estly incap­able of mak­ing up my mind
And I driv­en? Am I lazy? Stuck? Or wait­ing for my time?
Am I smit­ten with the lady luck? Tak­ing her for mine?
I’ve just done my forth line
And this fuck­ing nuts I’m god!
But come the morn­ing time
I’ll be noth­ing but a knob
There’s this feel­ing called shame
And its tug­ging at some knots
In a stom­ach full of shots
I want to run until I’m lost
These moments nev­er last
And I just don’t know why
It seems child­ish to ask but I have to
So please, why, when my future is oh so bright
Am I just look­ing for a past to go back to?
Its almost as if everything nev­er hap­pens
I’m search­ing for truths that aren’t there
I can’t bare the con­fu­sion
Won­der­ing, is it all just illu­sion?
May­be I should try a little pray­er, dear lord
I beg of thee, would you may­be give to me
Like, just one day, one day of sta­bil­ity
Or an hour, half an hour, five fuck­ing minutes, please!
I am sick of feel­ing so frick­in fid­gety
Per­haps if I believed in all your wiz­ardry
That’d sat­is­fy my need for more con­sist­ency
But unfor­tu­nately, I am not intrins­ic­ally dumb
And dumb­ness wasn’t forced on me
When I was clin­ic­ally young
So, I just tell myself that the mystery’s fun
That all the best minds are pro­lific­ally glum
And that ignor­ance, umm, that’s simplicity’s mum
And the charts hold the wastage that drips from it’s bum
Now I’m pissed off!…
Now I’m cheer­ful
Now I’m both of those com­bined
And I’m giv­ing you an ear­ful
Now I’m sprint­ing at the hurdle
Now I’m sit­ting flat on my but­tocks
But I’m grin­ning from here to Bris­tol
These moments come and go
But I wish they’d last forever, don’t you?
Wheth­er neck­ing a home brew, or touch­ing your true love
Lets all stay here now, where noth­ing is too much
And everything’s per­fect
I want for you to be me and for me to be the heart
That’s beat­ing in her chest, who­ever she may be
Today I let a skel­et­on save me
That is to say acknow­ledging
The rel­ev­ance of skel­et­ons made me
Or at least enabled me
To see things a little less hazily
Still I won­der what will adult­hood make of me
Am I destined for great­ness? Its blatantly doable
But then I catch myself get­ting laid in a cubicle
And she ‘aint even beau­ti­ful
Now I’m hav­ing flash­backs
Every time I find myself facing a urin­al
This just wont do now will it
Some moments feel like they’re nev­er going to pass
But the truth is that they nev­er last
Shed your scars, neck a glass of rum
And here’s to a bet­ter past to come
Here’s to a bet­ter past to come
Who mum? You hun, do it like you do son
Today was a tri­umph, now, on to a new one
You will make a few dumb moves
Trust me that’s an hon­est truth
But everything will be alright
My love and that I prom­ise you
It might seem like a lot to do
But, if you divide it into moments
Then its really just a job or two
It’s really just a job or two
Really, all you’ve got to do
Is make the best of solitude
And make your guests some prop­er food
And in this way I’ll live
I’ll muddle through the day to day
May­be find a way to give some
Col­our to these shades of grey
I’m on top of the world
And the fuck­ing views amaz­ing mate
Lets live for all of them
That have to struggle through and fade away
‘Cause I was doz­ing in the grass
I was frozen but it passed
I was toasty in the Bath
Now I’m focussed on the moment
And I’m hop­ing it’ll last, but it wont
Which is hard to except, but you grow
And you throw down the cards in your deck
I’ve a heart and a head
I’ve a past that till death I will guard and pro­tect
When the answers you get are the last you’d expect
Well just take them on board and keep march­ing ahead
Look, from calm to ber­serk
From boozy embra­cing
To cop­ing with morning’s attack
From start­ing desert
To indu­cing a pay­ment
From smoking to call­ing a cab
From the last to the first
Of these truths I have faith in
I know this one surely is fact
When the past has occurred
And the future is wait­ing
These moments,
These moment are all that we have.

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Lana Bell

Lana Bell

Author / Poetry Edit­or at I Am Hip-Hop 
Lana Bell, is an eight­een year old Lon­don­er who is based in Bris­tol. She is an emer­ging Spoken Word Artist, and the Poetry Edit­or for I Am Hip-Hop Magazine. She has been writ­ing for a dec­ade; though she has only been per­form­ing on from the age of fif­teen. She got into Hip-Hop music at four­teen, and she found a massive interest in Old Skl Sounds and the out­let that Hip-Hop music offered her.

About Lana Bell

Lana Bell
Lana Bell, is an eighteen year old Londoner who is based in Bristol. She is an emerging Spoken Word Artist, and the Poetry Editor for I Am Hip-Hop Magazine. She has been writing for a decade; though she has only been performing on from the age of fifteen. She got into Hip-Hop music at fourteen, and she found a massive interest in Old Skl Sounds and the outlet that Hip-Hop music offered her.

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