broken wing birds die in apartments

broken wing birds die in apartments
as they fly vainly
the windows shut and wont ever open
they flutter helplessly
the chimneys open and not blocked
they fly down and seek the heat
once stuck they're done for
pointless chirp and bleat
found as they lay
on the carpet
a sad day
held like a pet
taken outside
into the cold
into the dumpster
their new home
hardly the farewell
of an old soldier
we stand numb
wind growing colder
we get in the car
leave town
in the backseat our every possesion
our souls groan
we drag ourselves from our home
moving to the countryside
away from the city
off to the hill to hide
we find ourselves in a basement
in a field
where we write
and see whats real
we write and fight
and find ourselves
and setup music
held together by sugar fairies and elves
the folks upstairs clamor
floorboards groaning under the weight
old house shudders
as we ponder our similar fate
they say the farm is haunted
and i don't question it
we'll be gone soon
and that should restore shit