I'm sorry, I mumble You say it makes me hard to understand I think I'm in trouble You say I make it difficult to lend a hand You say a sentence like you It sounds like a stranger now to me, though I confuse its meaning with An observation of my voice on the phone Something about the vocal tone Isolation, tied like a rope I'm sobbing between the dial tones An amazing syllable, playing Buzzing on your cheeks I feel good by your side And alone You talk about numbers and the noise of pickets Then ask for details of the type of digit that I give you numbers and then I suppose You are in a room without a clock or at the time That I hear the complete stop without curriculum But I can't tell if it's on your side or mine The hotel will serve breakfast soon We appreciate your patience This year I am going to make some changes