Listam svoja sjećanja, stakla lipih boja,slikam dobra lica,a slika je uvik tvojaŽivin u svom svituu skrovištu od pakla,gledan jude di trčea nijedan se nije maka
I pisma pišen čestoa nikad ih ne šaljenjer u njima pišen uvik isto,da je kasnoi da se kajenI svaku svoju grubu ričvragu sada dajen
Tvoje suze mi sudešta san cili život krajer san čuva srce svojea tebi ga nisan daTvoje suze mi sudejer san to zaslužijaa kapja kad potečeu dušu me zapečeka i otrov ubijajer san te izgubija
I turn the pages of my memories, which are glasses of lovely colours,I paint nice faces,but it is always your painting.I live in my own world,in the shelter made of hell,I look people running around,but none of them has moved.
And I often write the letters,but I never send them,because I always write the same,that it is late,and that I repent,and each rough word that I said,now I give it to the devil.
Your tears judge me,for stealing for whole my life,because I was sparing my own heartand did not give it to youYour tears judge mebecause I have deserved itand when the tear goes down my faceit burns my soul,it kills me like poison,because I have lost you