Thoughts begin to crumbles in slow,  
Rolling down into shards right onto the floor.
Blood mixed with a strangely bitter liqueur.  
And now I feel like I'm not afraid to fall anymore.  
Do you hear this strange consonance of those words,
The softness of the velveteen fabric on these old cushions...?  
Do you think I'll feel better with another love dose?  
As I hold my poor heart, boy, keep your eyes closed.
It beats in my hands so desperately that it hurts,
It is eager to dance this silently burning waltz,
Under the rain of birds singing cheerful funeral songs  
I suffocated myself with a line that I was so afraid to cross.