Grigg's Family Reunion

Edited

A maze of scars
an over-birthed body
A collection of over-sized sweaters from every prince charming

Everyone knows the number
Its always 990
For a free car seat that will never be outgrown

Arms built for a race car
covered with tracks
Smacking your veins
slowly sinking back

A heart that wanders nowhere far
Little girl, do you know who you are?
Your legs wander deep into the dark
Little girl, do you know where you are?

A body that wants to give out
A mind that always gives in
Visits God on sunday
Goes home and continues the wickedness

A voyage to the merry mart
Ends with a nap under that same old bridge
Toss your hope into the lottery and a pack of the same old ciggs

A maze of scars
an over-birthed body

Arms built for a race car
Look at those tracks

A heart that wanders nowhere far
Legs that wander deep into the dark

A body that wants to give out
A mind that always gives in

Visits God on sunday
Goes home to continue the wickedness

My survival tactic is not to eliminate risk, but learn to live with it

Sick of the east coast!

I’ve been up and down and all a-fucking-round it !
That’s it, I’m leavin’.

I wish I had my guitar with me right now. I couldn’t believe what I’d been missing out on when I picked it up for the first time 6 months ago, I couldn’t believe I found it, found a way to muse and feel myself so in the moment expressing things I’d been needing to express. Playing just frees and relaxes me instantly, and I could really use a relaxer right about now.

Who knew the importance of editing….

Draw curtains of grass over rotted backyards
neighbors really are easily outsmarted

next to dog graves
Roots secure a wasteland of disfigured yesterdays

Dig dig dig dig up all the dirt
Watch the past creep up my mother’s skirt

Tiptoe around why the fire was ignited
a merry-go-round of shit that’s been over-recited

From the window you can never detect what really is,
abandoned among the other ships

Portraits of misery, carcasses of kids
Suffocated cries, biographies eclipsed

But she’s nine and she’s selling dime bags !
She’s fine, she’s too young to know !
But she’s nine and she’s selling dime bags !
She’s fine, she’s too young to know !

Determined grandfather clocks
Leaky faucets
And the strung out smirk of her exhaustion

Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig up all the dirt
Watch the past creep up my mother’s skirt

“Don’t go digging around back there, let my yard be”
They will never know why not and they will never see
the blanketed debris of history

Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig up all the dirt
Watch the past creep up my mother’s skirt

She’s nine and she’s selling dime bags !
She’s fine, she’s too young to know !
She’s nine and she’s selling dime bags !
She’s fine, she’s too young to know !
But she is only nine..

I’ve spent the last four days waiting and waiting and being really patient. I haven’t gotten any satisfaction out of it, and now I’m just anxious and frustrated. Hopefully this weekend while I’m away at work things will smooth out and ill come home refreshed and ready to ride.

Why we’ll never have an in-ground pool

Draw curtains of grass over rotted backyards
neighbors really are easily outsmarted

next to dog graves
Roots secure a wasteland of disfigured yesterdays

Dig dig dig dig up all the dirt
Watch the past creep up my mother’s skirt

Tiptoe around why the fire was ignited
a merry-go-round of shit that’s been over-recited

From the window you can never detect what really is,
abandoned among other ships
Portraits of misery, carcasses of kids
Suffocated cries, biographies eclipsed

But she’s nine and she’s selling dime bags !
She’s fine, she’s too young to know !
But she’s nine and she’s selling dime bags !
She’s fine, she’s too young to know !

Determined grandfather clocks
Leaky faucets
And the strung out smirk of her exhaustion

Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig up all the dirt
Watch the past creep up my mother’s skirt

“Don’t go digging around back there, let my yard be”
They will never know why not and they will never see
the blanketed debris of history

Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig up all the dirt
Watch the past creep up my mother’s skirt

She’s nine and she’s selling dime bags !
She’s fine, she’s too young to know !
She’s nine and she’s selling dime bags !
She’s fine, she’s too young to know !
But she is only nine..