Текст песни Ro.B - Последняя просьба.

"My boy, don't worry about me"
I hold on, but with rude care
Do you hand doctor, I swear
For recklessness is the weakness of idiots.

Frowned, jerked sentence:
"Not more than a year, I assure you."
"Excellent, I propose a contract:
  Get rid of the torment, I trust you.

The boy does not know how, he is too young
His soul is dearer to me. "
Your voice is full of pain. You are gloomy:
"Professor, what about my soul? Mine ?!"

In response to silence. You go away.
But I know that you will do it right:
When the fateful night comes
Bless me with your Avada ...