OBLOM - правда
текст песни

I won't repeat myself
On just how fucking sick I am
Of these faggots—
And what’s the point, anyway?

I won't try to incite anyone;
I don't like this whole circus act.
My brother says it's all just bullshit.

You bitch-asses—
I won't stand up for you anymore.
You two-faced hypocrites—
You won't stay healthy forever.

I know I'll live to see thirty;
They won't get to witness my death.
I won't die young, writhing in agony.

I look at my friend,
But I don't see in his eyes
What I’ve long been searching for—
Neither a personality, nor a human being.

At fifteen, I started thinking about life—
Realizing I was doing something wrong.
I understood: the time had come to act.


I gathered my thoughts,
Woke up early that morning—
Before I got sick of it all again.

Maybe I'm being cliché;
I’ve said so many nasty things
To my friends and my mom...
Well—goodbye.


I can't quite grasp
What I'm actually doing—living just two days at a time?
Or maybe living two days straight, without a breath?

I have no intention of relying
On anyone else's opinion—
Or constantly checking myself
To see if my blood pressure’s spiking.

Oh, damn—she really *should*
Know exactly how she looks:
Like some cheap, trashy slut.
But again—what’s the point?

Some people climb the career ladder step-by-step,
But I’ll take the elevator straight to the top.
I couldn't give a damn about anyone else's opinion.