Circles in the Grass

by J. Patrick Sharpe

Genre: Folk/Acoustic


The kids are playing in the empty lot
They round ’em up like hungry little lambs
The shadows are stretching from the buildings across the street
And the sun is sinking on the gravel

They have no softness in their eyes
They cut through the water like white feet on the sand
If you step in their office by the trashcans around the back
They love to see your million dollar smile

The kings of agency are biting hard They’re making circles in the grass
They’re doing hand tricks with their shiny cards
You better get it while it lasts– Their merchandise is moving fast

Frankenstein must have lost his mind
He’s scouting out graveyards with his little bloody hands
With a dirty shovel he was bound to hit some flesh
It gives us something to think about

If you think he’s finished now, well think again He has so many things to grasp
He’s reaching out so you’ll remember when
Formaldehyde and laughing gas– He’s making circles in the grass

(Br) And hanging from an overpass
There blows a check that you can’t cash

The snot-nosed punks are filling up the park
They carry fake pictures of themselves
The drive their vehicles on the soccer fields
Leaves a line of vapor in the air

And their primary caretakers are working hard To pay for telephones and gas
They lost their gravity when they left the yard
But who would’ve thought a one-way pass– They’re making circles in the grass

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