Музыка: П.Стравец
Текст: Александр Столяров

Sometimes I think
I’m a caprice of gods
As they have formed me
With one nod
My eyes are fogged
And I faint
I have a great doubt
That they are saint

The moves are so cautious and so imperfect
I do one move, I must receive the permit

The only right I have is breath
The evil way follows one path,
The nervous system is deceased,
My eyes don’t obey my persist

My calling is being a toy of gods’ whims
Destroying my past, and I’m making new sins
I add the colours to all of your dreams,
I give you thing tomorrow never brings

The child of [bad word] mocks at my soul,
That’s one more proof that I am a doll