My violin’s strings aren’t very well tightened,
My violin’s bow sings only earless noises
like a hedgehog touching the bark of a tree.

Words on the heart’s strings fly at me,
No melody no matter how I’d pinch…
Only the noises stupidly grin at me
Because there’s no more you…

My pulp is suspended on you
Like the talent on the violin’s strings
It has always been and it will always be…
Even when the noises grin at me.