We are defined by gridlines.
In four dimensions, space and time.
A place to sleep.
An hour to eat.
With no coordinates for peace.

A compass point and bearing north.
A route-map planned for setting forth.
Waystation signs
Are bound in time.
We brook no change in our designs.

This helpful map, so careful made,
With all you need to know displayed,
To show your way
And guide your day,
Was never supposed to be obeyed.

I will wipe clear this page of mine
And cut across those poor gridlines.

Gridlines

Conventional songs about unconventional subjects. Death, monkeys and space hardware may all feature.

Gridlines

Blinddrew