quid & tombombgrenade – tumbleweed lyrics
[quid]
when i woke up and i saw
the world i thought i knew was gone
that’s when it dawned on me all i’d seen
was wrong. up until this point, i never knew the song
probably thought i did. i might have wrote some sh+t
once upon a time, but i had never noticed it
for what it truly is; never had a clue that this
was really just a ruse to trick a kid into communing with
nothing of importance; just another fork in
the road that leads to nowhere but a grudge and what is more is
this distortion of reality forces us to casually
ignore the force of gravity. portraits of insanity
consistently get painted then bеlieved by the naïvе;
it’s image over statements and it seems if i could see
every single innovation, the little things that make it
sacred, perhaps this place i stay won’t seem as vacant
[(jack rylands) & quid]
(i don’t know why)
i keep on talking to these tombstones
(time rolls on by)
inside this ghost town, i know now
(i don’t know why)
i keep on walking with these doomed souls/soles
(time rolls on by)
just like a tumbleweed does in a breeze
[quid]
and once i fell asleep i knew
this world i’d always viewed as true
was a mere mockery; honesty, camaraderie
had all but been a mirage++façade++and as i was peering through
it then occurred to me the work i deemed as raw
was nothing more than a distorted dream i saw
so am i dreaming when i’m sleeping? is my waking state the fake?
and how is it that i can differentiate?
i’ll never know for certain. every effort goes unheard, and
if and when these questions surface, will they even then emerge with
the same inflection i had posed? made to rectify the most
often pondered thoughts of wandering minds that never find their home
or way back to the base camp to debate that which happened:
were the spots we rocked or the props we got truly all for not? if that is
the case, may we all grasp it tightly and attach these
hand+prints. perhaps the changes made won’t seem as drastic
[(jack rylands) & quid]
(i don’t know why)
i keep on talking to these tombstones
(time rolls on by)
inside this ghost town, i know now
(i don’t know why)
i keep on walking with these doomed souls/soles
(time rolls on by)
just like a tumbleweed does in a breeze
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