Оригинален текст
There's rain on the line
Between his ear and mine
Lost in translation, bad patient
I'm a terrier, a black sheep, half-relation
He's French, a hack, white, Caucasian
We fuck in sadness,
A cold frustration
Then we're fine for a while,
Our hearts adjacent
He types, I read
And we clash on the keys
He corrects,
I direct the bones of the text
But he's silent,
Too ill, too fragile, too still
And I'm violent and rash,
Slow down for the crash