Eu dialogando, de novo, com Björk

I'm back at my cliff still throwing things off
Like car parts, bottles and cuttlery or whatever I find lying around
I listen to the sounds they make on their way down
(silêncio total)

I follow with my eyes till they crash
I imagine what my body would sound like slamming against those rocks
And when it lands, will my eyes be closed or open?
(o cair é eterno, não há chão)