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- Кожен раз,коли я помираю
The faint blaze of the candle
of my life slowly dying
like a fire in the pouring rain.
No sparks of hope inside,
no shooting stars on my sky.
On broken wings, no flying high.
Another day, another demise,
- Ритм живих мерців
Look out!
Once again waiting for the darkness, beat up
spun and scarred. Prepare for another war
Day by day we decay. Sunlight, get out of my way
Dig up yourself from your grave
My generation in the gutter,