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