Текст песни Пустые улицы и коробок спичек. - Девять Кругов Ада.

Like a bullet in slow motion,
Length in way of life,
Breaks sacred film,
Souls who will not return.

And the flying fragments of words,
And fell at attention,
Blurring the scarlet blood,
Which slowly crawled on his hands.

His eyes glazed over,
Lips in a meaningless smile,
Immediately around all mertveli,
In anticipation of a painful torture.

Like a bullet was stuck in my head,
And hope goes in slow motion frame,
After the body so still young,
And now the soul somewhere in between.

The penalty for not having been made,
Who became a fiery hail,
And wanders Now my body is pale,
In the nine circles of hell blazing.