Before opening the gas she thinks of her canary
Before leaving once and for all with life
She takes the cage and goes on the balcony
The cold wind of winter seized her, gives her chills
She opened the gas and lies down on his bed
On the pick-up she put her favorite disk
Already she has no longer all her reason
She see strange flowers, weird flowers and
butterflies
While slowly descends on London the night
On the table nearly of the sleepy girl
we can read scribbled with pencil
Just these few words: "The canary is on the balcony."