Текст песни Anastasiya Kusto - Мам

What will I become when I am told to grow up, Mom?
The head does not change and does not click - everything is empty.
Dust wanders gracefully from place to place,
And not to throw away any anger or resentment - it's worth a lot.
How can I cope with myself, tell me, Mom?
I'm tired of feeling sorry, vegetating and getting cold.
To rake heart trash on a flea,
whine at night where the agility has gone.
_
I'm not crying, what are you! I'm just dreaming mom
That one day I will take off some more
And I will start my life from scratch, but not here, but in the distant "there":
I don't care: Paris, Magadan, Beirut -
God will place the children in their corners.
I will start to recover.
True,
Mom.

Just do not cry.