Оригинален текст
Listening, listening
And every hand is framed
That gang of hours
Still call themselves a day.
Call it shades and subtleties,
Enraged, grey generalities, whatever
'cause I'll still call it plain
I'd like to get enough to get by
string along and wave goodbye
A train will lull any soul to sleep.
You'll wake to find you're still alone
With every lie you know.
Come with me and waste another hour.