Let the tear-off calendar
Litter the floor with its dates
I'm inviting friends
I'm dressing the table
I'm blowing the candle
I'm closing my eyes
And I understand now
That all will be as it was
I'll tear the pages of the notebook
With the feather, such as with a thin razor
Can't change a thing
And I'm burning up bridges
I was walking, undoubtedly straight ahead
I stopped, and suddenly
I realized that my way,
Was just a cursed circle