TATITERA — Месяц рожу полощет в луже

The month rinses its face in a puddle, Lilac satin shines from the sky. I stand unwanted by anyone, Lonely and drunk, alone.

There's little good in life, Pain won't drown in damned wine, Even she whom I loved has stopped Smiling when she meets me.

For what? For the fact that I drink? Can you really scold me for that, When on this drunken planet A poor mother gave birth to me?

I stand unwanted by anyone, Lonely and drunk, alone. The month rinses its face in a puddle, Lilac satin shines from the sky.

Hear it — the city hisses underfoot like snakes in a basement. I don't trust them — they've sold me out before. Happiness in a bottle, love on clearance sale. And I kept swallowing it all as if it were salvation, not degradation. Laughter behind my back, or just echo in my head. Every step of mine is like walking a blade, quietly. Mom, forgive me, I tried to be better than I am. But the world teaches me: here, if you're weak — you disappear. I'm no hero — I'm a product of these gray panel blocks, Where every second man either lied or simply didn't believe That it could be otherwise — without pain, without poison inside. But if I don't drink — then how the hell do I survive this? Look: the reflection in the puddle grimaces and sneers. Is it not me, or me, but it doesn't matter anymore. The soul on repeat — hold on, but it slips downward. And I'm alone again, and once more this damn reprise.