Take my soul out of your pocket

Tragedy, comedy, farce, drama and grotesque,
I'm in the gallery on the right, the hall is full, there are no seats.
The glasses in the binoculars are cloudy,
In the row of the last chair,
And there, the fight is big!
It's all there with the word "if",
You are brilliant, wait!
Don't continue the scene!
No, no, sir, don't sing!
They're preparing to betray you!
No, I can't get to you!
In the row of the last chair.
I'll only give you my soul
May you rise again!

And now, I am without a soul.
Walking on the old stage
If you want to sing - sing! Dance!
Well, sing to them about treason!
The artist went home
Soul in his pocket.
Well, now I'm like this
Walking in dense fog?
He played great
And I forgot about everything
That moan was fake
And I loved him!
Fuck his love
And to hell with talents
The blood became cold
No darling, no lamp!
I'm cold, give me back!
My soul is in my pocket
Soul is a love paradise
But I'm in a thick fog!
Where is your coat, se;or?
The soul is in the pocket
I hear someone argue
Words hurt so much.

There's a woman screaming!
The frock coat is thrown at the wall,
And our lord is silent,
He is silent about change.

beaten soul,
Returned to my body!
Calmly! Leisurely,
I go where I want.