You Call Me Tony

You call me Tony
When you're ranting and you're raving
About my daughters, my ex, and I.

You're ragging on my father, Tony.
You're ragging on me, as a father myself
And all without being a parent yourself.

You tell me that you love me
And you want us to get married.
We've even bought the rings.

Then you explode like a temper tantrumed child.
Waving your hands and arms all through the air
And throwing things about and at me.

You'll say all sorts of things
Just to hurt and pain me.
You are well aware of what you're doing.

I hope you're feeling better.
I bite my tongue and I'll
Keep my silence - mostly.

I can understand a lot of this
Is rooted in your past. Your mother, your father,
The men, the marriages, and your childhood and all.

Buried in those entire blank areas of your memory
Is still the little girl you were.
It's where it all began.

When you act out like this
You remind me so much
Of my grandfather's wife, Mary.

You argue just to argue
And fight simply for the sake of fighting
And just so you can call me Tony.