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 [bad word] lie
When all is empty, when all is deaf

 [bad word] 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 [bad word] with life!”