Iron wind like a bitter candy,
Like the eyes of my dead wife,
Thousand men who are always ready
With the scalpel improve my life.
And the body of my goddess
Just some dozens of weak flash,
And after, just like before us,
Empty sky and road’s slash.
And no one used to be like us,
And no one to provide support,
Life is crooked way through the darkness,
And my head’s like a broken pot.
But forget, never mind, my dear,
We will never be here again,
Smoke of dreams and the broken mirror
That is all what we’ve managed to gain.