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!”