Ответ:

It's not blood that flows down the knife.

It's karma, and I value it..."

Bloody Mary,

Underwood group

Blood diluted with vodka,

Served chilled.

And again at the bar

the sleepy evening comes to life.

An empty soul remembers everything:

Like a March drop

On trolleybuses and trams

We flew through our youth.

Mischievous, on hormones

And lovers until they howled,

In the most distant stages

Were happy with you.

Our youth has faded away -

There are snowstorms over the capital again.

Only the heart, all worried,

rushes into the sky like a white bird...

Under the neon cocktail,

we won’t warm our icy souls...

But someday (I wait and believe)

“Bloody Mary” will help us!

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