navisli kach chuchi grustnyye mysli sdavila gorlo nemaya toska ya chuvstvuyu, chto skoro slomayus' sunu v petlyu golovu ya ya ustal ot bessonnitsy dolgoy ya ustal ot svoikh grustnykh stikhov ya ustal byt' normal'nym ya ustal, ya ustal, ya ustal, ya ustal net uzhe sil po baram spivat'sya no net sil brosit' pit' net sil derzhat'sya za chto-libo ves moy mir kazhetsya ne moy, nemoy ni rydat' ne mozhet zhenshchina ya ne chuvstvuyu sebya zhivym ya chuvstvuyu, chto slomayus' sunu v petlyu golovu ya kogda ya perestanu dumat' o smerti? kogda-zheluyus' izbavit'sya ot samogo sebya? vosh' ya drozhashchaya ili pravda posmeyu ubit'samogo sebya? Oh, my darkness My painfull goddes Oh, my darkness Oh, my sweet decadance