album cover
Dot Grid Distance
1
Underground Rap
Dot Grid Distance was released on August 29, 2025 by Sound Of Salt as a part of the album Mourning In Angst
album cover
Release DateAugust 29, 2025
LabelSound Of Salt
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mournst
Mournst
Performer
Dylan Zachariah Ross
Dylan Zachariah Ross
Lead Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Dylan Zachariah Ross
Dylan Zachariah Ross
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mournst
Mournst
Producer
Dylan Zachariah Ross
Dylan Zachariah Ross
Producer

Lyrics

Sitting in my room, just waiting for a sliver of inspiration
As I watch Miss Fisher
Efficiency, delivered Half-done loops
Disappointing my inner completionist, self-centred
Im contemplating what-ifs, if I'm twisting my whiskers
Practicing my scales and ripping open my blisters
Couldn't ever cut it, feeling like half of a scissor
My marbled language swarms and forms into a river
Another vibes-off night How is it, that as I move closer
To the light, that it appears to get dimmer?
This time, dark depths of the mind get entered
Another nice night of nothing but white rice for dinner
Sometimes life can feel kind of like a splinter
Knife cuts through the tension, as the air gets thinner
Cannot appreciate a thing, a feat all on it's own
Can't seem to focus on anything beyond being bitter
Witnessed a familiar silhouette flitter
In the same place that hope once had a glimmer
Glint and shimmer, shovelled, stewed and simmered
Petrified shell protect purified innards
Fingers: all skinny, hands: atrophied and withered
I used to be a writer back in the fay, but my liver
Couldn't seem to keep up with anything ever
Better yet, it couldn't catalogue anything
I wish I could have remembered
Now, this is what you really call living
Made a noose out of an old Smith-Corona ribbon
Counting the knots down, one for every minute
Standing on the business of quicksand, standing in it
Endless alterations, augmentations and edits
Be-be at the end of Suburbia, right before the credits
If I don't even know what I'm looking for
Then how can I be disappointed if what I get is not what I expected?
Isolated, ice-veined innateness, and stained with vice
Only writing to fight my own inaneness
The feedback loop feeds into the sensation
Of falling backwards, in a state of sedation
Write a story, life is bloody, life is gory
Edward Gorey Life up on the second story
Drifting and soaring, Ill be back in the morning
I bet there's something beautiful underneath all this ugly flooring
Reaching and exploring for something to say, but to my dismay
I feel like everything is so awfully boring
Stepping back to gain a perspective on the absurdity of all of this
Within the absence of enjoying
Art deco Red, same as Argento
Vision fuzzy, going in and out Hard lymph node
Had to stop for a second there, to get it together
Fell down the stairs, and then I flew out the window
Written by: Dylan Zachariah Ross
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