庖丁解牛 Chef Ding Cut the Bull

Cut the bull
Face the music 
Bones and flesh scatter
Into our boiling soup
Chef sips, scalded
And starts spitting boiling words
The bull still doesn’t realize
It’s really just drop-dead bull

切牛
面向音乐
肉骨纷坠
入我们的沸汤
厨子啜一口, 烫着
开始吐沸话
牛还不知道
它已是落死的牛