And when our backs are skimmed
And that the dull rain comes crashing down
Our shoulder blades in cascades and lips quivering, jingle bells
Play one of those symphonies, we never forget

And when we speak on a blue day just like the other days
And arms over head and hair tangling
You will bite the hook
Become mediocre and
Hollow in ebony
Look at the sky where we will find ourselves

The enamelled fruits
The fish twirling
Out of gentleness, out of modesty
From flippancy without rebellion
From appearing to being
And the being to appear
We will train ourselves in chains as we will be

It's the man who kills himself
Hanged by his ****** thoughts
Bruised by foolish happiness
And visions without life
At the bottom of the gorge
The color of a rose
The ravines and the good
The bad
And the people
Moans and mooing
A funny grazing cow
Falls and without shame
Gets up and guards
It's udder pink looks
Strange

Our backs are denuded
Sullen rain, Sabbath
Our shoulders clenched and frozen
Our lips covered in frost
Let us play one of these symphonies
The ones we never forget
Since the moment has marked itself,
And will disappear forever with the rain remains and rising winds,
As the end of our days