Lyrics Grass Shack - Guerilla Toss

Grass Shack

Quality and sanity
Buldging and receding
Ring around the edges
A blurry figure
Cuz if you find a needle
Inside of a grass shack
Bent up and misshapen
Deformed pattern
Blurry fuzzy muted
And not so very clear
Murky, monotonous
I cannot see or hear
I do not know tomorrow
Only today
A powder identity
A pet made of clay
Balance and lucidity
Pushing but not needing
Keep it at the surface
Right or reason
Collect all the details
From one thing to another
A hazy figure told me
Lack want, need, faster
Blurry fuzzy muted
And not so very clear
Murky, monotonous
I cannot see or hear
I do not know tomorrow
Only today
A powder identity
A pet made of clay
She saw patterns in sleep but also on the tv screen
Observing and waiting for an image or message to arrive
From a place she had grown to lean
Why go outside, and look at the public feature?
Maybe go out see a show, or, to change the scenery
Peeling her frame from the sheet
Trails of light followed each image in motion
Led by a small square of paper
It was rough, pointed on the edges and not entirely square
Peering from behind the peripheral the idea was spherical
A question asked but never resolved
Loomed in the air until the door opened
Parting ways with a forgetful air perhaps using it later
To tie together two pieces of rope
Or stretch a rubber band over a jar
She closed the door and paced
Strutting and moving around
Shifting the shoulders up and down
Assessing every fingertip and limb
All the images pulsing and breathing also with a halo rim
Stumbling towards the way, passing by every tree
Or figure lined behind a dull grey
Mundanely molded as a replica of the next
In a clay, factory, built on land with a hex
A walk in the winter turned into a walk in the spring
As the grey turned to green and the cold started to melt away
Patterns still lay on the front of her eyes and shadows could still be seen in
the corners
A truth or a figment?
I can’t even stand it
Without seeing or hearing was as good as blinking in the dark
A pin in the heart
That rushed up and out to patterns in the tv
Whats good in reality?
the difference in dreams and mortality
The form or the picture and the light and the fixture
Quality and sanity bursting into abnormality
The holiest