| Song | The Dicing |
| Artist | Antennas to Heaven |
| Album | The Line Between Myth and Reality Has Always Been in Finland |
| [ti:] | |
| [ar:] | |
| [al:] | |
| [00:00.00] | 作曲 : Hodgson, Smith |
| [00:03.71] | He's seen it.In the mirror.In windows.The eyes of his colleagues.His so called friends. |
| [00:08.05] | He's seen it sprouting.Growing.Where the hair once was.Where the hair was now gone. |
| [00:13.36] | His head.His skull.Growing.Pushing.Sprouting.And it got worse. |
| [00:19.48] | Morning after morning.First a centimetre.Then an inch.Upwards.Always upwards. |
| [00:24.80] | To the sky.The stars.The sun.His bathroom ceiling.But when he touched it, there was nothing.Only bone.Only skin.Only his head. |
| [00:34.93] | His head and mind growing further away.Deeper.He could have put it in a bag.His head.He could have ended it all. |
| [00:50.48] | But there were holes.Always holes.So he was left with the hats.Oh yeah, there were hats. Hats to keep the water off and the heat in. |
| [01:09.57] | Trendy hats.Stylish hats.Hats they wouldn't notice.Hats to stop the stares.Hats to push his eyes to the ground. |
| [01:15.93] | To push his away from theirs. But they didn't last.It grew beyond that.And he couldn't hide it anymore.They would all see it. |
| [01:22.70] | What he was becoming.What he was now.He thought of the layers of his skull.The bulb at the centre. |
| [01:28.78] | He thought of the doctors smile.The card from the office. |
| [01:32.04] | He thought of it all, all that would scare him.The smell when they were doing it. |
| [01:36.42] | The tears of the surgeon.The imaginary clean metal.The roasting in the sun.The dicing. |
| [01:42.86] | All that was left was all that bothered him. |
| [01:44.97] | The fact that it would grow forever.Until he was gone and it would be all that was left. |
| ti: | |
| ar: | |
| al: | |
| [00:00.00] | zuò qǔ : Hodgson, Smith |
| [00:03.71] | He' s seen it. In the mirror. In windows. The eyes of his colleagues. His so called friends. |
| [00:08.05] | He' s seen it sprouting. Growing. Where the hair once was. Where the hair was now gone. |
| [00:13.36] | His head. His skull. Growing. Pushing. Sprouting. And it got worse. |
| [00:19.48] | Morning after morning. First a centimetre. Then an inch. Upwards. Always upwards. |
| [00:24.80] | To the sky. The stars. The sun. His bathroom ceiling. But when he touched it, there was nothing. Only bone. Only skin. Only his head. |
| [00:34.93] | His head and mind growing further away. Deeper. He could have put it in a bag. His head. He could have ended it all. |
| [00:50.48] | But there were holes. Always holes. So he was left with the hats. Oh yeah, there were hats. Hats to keep the water off and the heat in. |
| [01:09.57] | Trendy hats. Stylish hats. Hats they wouldn' t notice. Hats to stop the stares. Hats to push his eyes to the ground. |
| [01:15.93] | To push his away from theirs. But they didn' t last. It grew beyond that. And he couldn' t hide it anymore. They would all see it. |
| [01:22.70] | What he was becoming. What he was now. He thought of the layers of his skull. The bulb at the centre. |
| [01:28.78] | He thought of the doctors smile. The card from the office. |
| [01:32.04] | He thought of it all, all that would scare him. The smell when they were doing it. |
| [01:36.42] | The tears of the surgeon. The imaginary clean metal. The roasting in the sun. The dicing. |
| [01:42.86] | All that was left was all that bothered him. |
| [01:44.97] | The fact that it would grow forever. Until he was gone and it would be all that was left. |