то, что в сердце — личное.

Sometimes I don’t wanna live I wish to escape from the real I look upon things as I’m taking my last leave Just imagine how I feel Sometimes I think I’m gonna die From sobs I’m out of breath When everything around is goddamn lie When all is empty, when all is deaf She comes without being called She spreads her veil of black lace And over me she has her horrid hold Her pleasure – tears on my face Her exultant air when she looks at me… She is always ready to deceive… Oh, she adores when I am plunging into misery And I have to gaze into the blind eyes of my grief Sometimes I don’t wanna live I bare my wrists and I take a knife I wanna die, escape from the real And every time I say: “To hell with life!”