I’m a real Russian.
When I love, I do it with my true heart,
Without any thought of hesitation.
But when I hate... you’d better stay apart
From me, who’s blind with rage and irritation.
I am, yes, who I am.
Like pendulum, I swing
From good to bad,
From bright to dark....
But do I have the right to be this kind of man?
I’m really sad...
I’m really stuck...
My soul.
My tormented, worn-out soul...
That’s all.
That’s all I have...
And it’s so much – believe! –
With Russian soul to live!