No, I don't dream anymore, and I don't burn anymore, and my guardian angel has disappeared somewhere. Gray day after day, night without a moment of sleep, it doesn't call you. My silent cry doesn't want to hide it, to live by my wish, to weave his thread. It trembles so much, the bed is changing, into a train that's pulling you anywhere. I'm singing you a ballad without any strength, a ballad of my illness. These evenings are stuck in my memory, when my mother left me, with despair. At your feet I lay, my complete fall. You come back, you don't know where from, you leave again, not saying goodbye. It will be the second year like this, when you have it somewhere. You tied me up, you enslaved me, like you enslaved the dust and sin. You tired me, you tormented me, I pretend something, I laugh, but I lose my breath. And behind the wedge, the wedge, vodka, whiskey, gin and grog, they have the same taste. It's already the second year, I'm sinking step by step, into the merciless darkness. Yes, that's why I'm singing you a ballad without any strength, a ballad of my illness. I pour blood into your body, and when you disappear, I die like a bird, among the dry trees at your feet. At your feet I lay, my complete fall. You took my every song, and you deprived everyone of their service, but I had so many of them, when I was healthy. It kills me, when it doesn't end, I dream alone, empty dreams, like an idiot who turns on the radio, because he wants to hear his own voice, which sings to you. I'm sick, completely sick, like when my mother went out at night, and she left me alone with my despair. I'm sick, that's it, I'm sick, you deprived me of all my songs, you emptied me of all my words, and my heart is completely sick. Barricade, Tonton, I'm sick.