Gray from Driftwood Head by Native Tongue

Free
Truly free
You got your choices now
Cause God ain't got your limbs on strings
Scratch your itches till they bleed
Filling stomach, filling bed
Cut the roots from off your feet
Severed anchor, driftwood head

Vertigo from watching the world's axis spin underneath
See all your friends as spies
They're plotting your demise
You say the earth's dull and gray; I agree
Of course it's amorphous when you make it bow flat at your feet

A house
Built alone
Lets in all the rain
But at least it's shelter, feels safe
Grow to love your painting more
Than the muse it was inspired from
You've forgotten your first love
You forgot your native tongue

You'll never get your fill
And you don't even like the taste

And the suns always half down in your sky
Still hoping it's morning that gets birthed from the twilight
They say that to heaven's broad expanse
The entire sum of hell is but one grain of sand

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