Gris Klein | Birds in Row | Birds In Row

I drew a few steps on the first street, Jumped to a store locals named Million Ways To Fuck It Up. It Seems we all wish to sell ourselves to a million offers. Dozen letters in my pocket, from people I respect, and no way to write back: Return to sender, Attention not found. Confusing loneliness for freedom, solitude for a serum, and complaints for poetry, I fell, I failed. I betrayed the kid I kept safe from all counterfeit hopes and all the snakes we swallow. An aisle of silicon hands to shake and crush your throat. Where do we go from here ? Water wings sell like balloon shaped hopes. Where do we go from here ? A burden is a burden to the burdened. They’d sell the limbless a course on how to sink with elegancy. I took it back to the street, bought whatever they had, thought I should write down my dreams, A notebook by the bed In case I’m lucky tonight. Fantasized on how to beat regret. I’ll eventually crack it but you know me, I’ll just forget. And I almost find sleep. Pressing my eyes, watching colors, Summer for cold feet. Stains and tunnels, abstraction bores me, here no museums are free. I don’t want to be young. I don’t want to be old enough to remember all the things I projected but never touched in fear of ruining dreams I don’t possess. And these are dreams that I’ll never forgive. Water wings of lead, they are dreams that I’ll never forgive.

There’s a road leading into darkness.
It’s got a rhythm that no one can clap to.
You think you’re free until you answer the call and all the claps of some fools just cover it up.
Come with me.
You’re the dentist with no front teeth telling me how to smile, how to brush it hard and how to hide my insides.
A black hole with a tongue and much pride, you’re a monster and you think you just offer enough. Come with me.
Would you just come with me and see ?
How all love is meant to disappear on a road paved with laments.
Shredded bodies on shredded bodies, dead bodies on both sides.
And in the silence you hear the screams of all the true heroes who are done suffering for us.
Come with me.
We all lose a reason to smile when we take that one hike, to the top of the hill and down to the depth to the valley of the vile.
You think you’ll fix it with money ?
Come with me.
Wouldn’t we know about the hidden costs this road would be paved for us to dance.
And if we are too shy to dare there’d always be that one hand waving its money.
Please, come with me.
Cause I’m not sure we should dance.
The more we walk, the more it rains stories about a deluge above our heads.
How ridiculous we look, here, clapping our hands as the waters rise.
Piled up clothes of those we lost, frail barricades for frail fates.
They are candies inside the jaws sculpted on godly waves.
You say we’d be free with the money.
Fold your paper into an ark.
Godspeed Noah, I’m so glad you’ll finally sink.
For there’s no way out from here.
From a circle of pain to a circle of doubt to a circle of shame.
First monuments of water hide the sun, then they break and hit.
And they’ll take us all Where oxygen runs dry and gold won’t buy room for any of us.
You think you’ll fix it with money, the will to give up and the big hole inside our chests ?
I don’t know how you dance but it looks romantic somehow.
The mesmerizing defense of what is left of our smiles.
I don’t know how you dance but it looks romantic somehow.
Two bodies under the rain maybe kissing for the very last time.
It sounds romantic somehow, echoes inside my brain murmuring again and again: You should have taken the money, you fool.