Like a shadow on a shadow, a phantom in a film strip, 就像一个影子影子，在电影带一个幽灵，

Faint glimmer of the past trapped in mother’s old slides, 过去的淡淡微光被困在妈妈的旧幻灯片，

Sits still in the apartment while sifting through some pictures 坐在依然在房间里的时候，通过一些图片筛选

Of the child that he once was and the sense of hope they framed. 孩子说，他曾经和希望的感觉，他们陷害。

“It’s a shame,” “这是一个耻辱。”

   

And I fear that fate while the humming from the street keeps me awake, 我担心的命运，而从街上的嗡嗡声让我清醒，

   

He says, “I let life get twisted. 他说， “我让生命得到扭转。

Get worn out, torn up, and late with the rent. And 获取磨损，撕毁，并与租金已晚。和

Now nothing makes sense except the bench and that piano, 现在，没有什么是有意义的，除了板凳和那架钢琴，

A feeling nearing order when I’m pressing down the chords.” 的感觉，当我按下了和弦接近顺序。 “

And he plays, 和他打，

   

And it swells and breaks, but what’ll it take to make my life sound like that. 它膨胀和破裂，但会才能使我的生活的声音这样。

   

And brings a fever, a dream of sweat and ecstasy. 并带来了发热，汗水和忘我梦想。

A kiss on every hammer hit that follows as the keys fall down and 在每一个锤子打了一个吻后面的按键掉下来

Bring an order first, then chaos, then a calm, that 首先带来一个订单，那么乱，那么平静，那

Paints every shift in murals on the wall. And 绘制每个班次的壁画在墙上。和

It presses to your neck, 它压到你的脖子，

It clutches to your hips, 这要抓住你的臀部，

Softly sings to you of fireworks and God and art and sex and it’s strange- 轻声唱着你的烟花，神，艺术和性的，它的strange-

That it feels so right when nothing else does. 这感觉在没有其他这样做的权利。

   

But all the while he’s playing there’s a humming 但是所有的同时，他的演奏有一种嗡嗡声

Coming up and through the window from outside. 上来，并通过窗口向外。

And even he has to admit a certain melody in it, but then why can’t he harmonize? 甚至他也不得不承认一定的旋律在里面，但为什么他不能统一？

It’s like the city’s got it’s own song but he can’t play along. 这就像城市有它自己的歌曲，但他不能一起玩。

He sees the notes as they fly by but always plays them wrong. 他认为，票据，因为他们飞了，但始终发挥他们错了。

And in the bathroom it gets blurry, gets warm and distorted, 而在浴室也变得模糊，变得温暖而扭曲，

Like light pushed the orange of the pillbox he poured in 像光推他倒在碉堡的橙色

His palm. It falls to the floor, he smiles as it hits, 他的手掌。它掉到地上，他笑着说，因为它击中，

“Sounds a little like an instrument.” “听起来有点像一个工具。 ”

   

Like a voice in the choir, that hum and that drumbeat of life as an art-form and 就像合唱团的声音，那嗡嗡声和生命的鼓声作为一种艺术形式，并

Fire through the streets that keep moving us in silence to phantom baton sweeps, 通过不断推动我们在沉默中幻象接力棒打扫街道消防，

Keep tapping to the tempo of our feet. 不断攻到我们脚下的节奏。

   

And all the ones who seem to fit the best into the chorus never notice there’s a song 和所有的人似乎谁适合到最佳合唱不会注意到有一首歌

And the ones who seem to hear it end up tortured by the chords when they fail to find 和那些谁似乎听到它最终的和弦折磨，当他们无法找到

A way to sing along. 一种方法一起唱。

   

And when you sing the wrong thing it all starts collapsing. 而当你唱错的这一切开始崩溃。

Starts to ring out and feedback, starts lapsing and crashing, on notes that don’t clash 开始响起和反馈，流逝成开始和崩溃，纸币上不冲突

But that never quite feel like they match. 但是，从来没有完全觉得他们匹配。

   

And I never quite feel like mine match. 我从来没有觉得挺喜欢我的比赛。

   

There’s a melody in everything, 有旋律的一切，

I’m trying to find a harmony but 我试图找到一种和谐的，但

Nothing seems to work, 似乎没有任何工作，

Nothing seems to fit. 似乎没有任何合适。

   

There’s a melody in everything, 有旋律的一切，

I’m trying to find a harmony but 我试图找到一个和谐的，但

Nothing seems to work, 似乎没有任何工作，

Nothing seems to fit. 似乎没有任何合适。

   

There’s a melody in everything, 有旋律的一切，

I’m trying to find a harmony but 我试图找到一种和谐的，但

Nothing seems to work, 似乎没有任何工作，

Nothing fits. 没有什么合适。