Chuttya v mene ye, sho zyttya nema
Nema dlya mene prav
Koly bude kinec'

I znov chtos' chodyt', yak tuman
Ne movyt' ani sliv
Ide do svoyich sniv
Ya probuyu yty po chytkiy zemli
I piznavaty yich
Rachuy, sho to ne hrich

Pryspiv:
O-o-o, o-o-o, chuyesh bil?
Chuyesh bil, chuyesh bil?
O-o-o, o-o-o, chuyesh bil?
Chuyesh bil, chuyesh bil?

Znov dyvnu postat' ya zustriv
Nastrashyvsya sebe
Vtikav ne znayu de
Z vohnyu chtos' vynyk, potim znyk
Lyshylasya stina
I ya vkotre vze sam

Pryspiv

Znovu hirkyi i siryi bachyv ya son
Lystya kudys' letilo v dyvnyi polon
Poyizd tyazkyi i temnyi stav, yak stina
Bih ya i tratyv syly, chuv, de vona
Tyahnet'sya syva dnyna
Chochu vtekty,
Ale stina yedyna
Ne dast' proyty

Tycho des' anhel hraye moyich pisen
Ya vze ne dochekayus', shob kinchyvsya den
Moze yiyi pobachu, syl vze nema
Poyizd tyazkyi i siryi
Stav, yak stina...

Pryspiv (2)