Songtext zu 'Grass Shack' von Guerilla Toss

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Grass Shack ist ein Lied von Guerilla Toss, dessen Text unzählige Suchanfragen hat, deshalb haben wir entschieden, dass es seinen Platz auf dieser Webseite verdient, zusammen mit vielen anderen Liedtexten, die Internetnutzer kennenlernen möchten.

Wenn du lange nach dem Text des Liedes Grass Shack von Guerilla Toss gesucht hast, fang an, deine Stimme aufzuwärmen, denn du wirst nicht aufhören können, es zu singen.

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

Balance and lucidity
Pushing but not needing
Keep it at the surface
The right or the reason
So collect all the details
From one thing to another
A hazy figure told me
Lack want, need, faster

Blurry fuzzy muted
Not so very clear

Murky or monotonous
Can't see or hear

I do not know tomorrow
Only today

A powder identity
A head made of clay

She saw patterns in sleep but also on the TV screen
Observing and waiting for an image or message derived
From a place she had grown to lean

Why go outside, and look at the public feature?
Maybe to 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 behind in her peripheral the idea felt 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 or the light and the fixture?
Quality and sanity bursting into abnormality

The holiest

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