Grey Lining

This house is so clean; glass tables spread with new 
magazines. Can I stay for a week?
You can kick me out when I break something. From the guest 
room I see your garden stretch out, it's like oceans of 
green. The maid calls me for tea and the tiles depict 
Mediterranean scenes. And it's all been added up, laid so a
 life can lean on it, so please don't bring that up. No one
 wants to hear that shit. Every night in my dreams I lift 
glass figurines from a shelf in the hall. Each delicate 
piece, when I pick it up it just can't help but fall. I 
can't hold anything, all machines, clothes and cars they 
just crumble and break when they touch my hand, cause I 
feel like I'm holding the hand that made them that way. But
 this house is beautiful you cold live long lives in it. 
Please don't be so dutiful. No one wants to hear that shit.