Like a spirit I reappeared
Being dead for two whole years
Dead and smiling I quietly stand
Numbly recalling the touch of your hand

I've made a list of my bitter mistakes
I read it right before the day breaks
Sweat on my sheets and blood on my chest
Numbly longing for the touch of your breath

I know always that our love was late
It was a revenge coup for the tired and celibate
When I took my seventh breath
I realized I was just one closer to death
Mayakovsky and the civil war
Wondering what my repression was far
Mayakovsky and the civil war
Wondering what my repression was for

I've made a list of my bitter mistakes
I read it right before the day breaks
Sweat on my sheets and blood on my chest
Numbly longing for the touch of your breath
I've made a list of my bigger mistakes
I read it right before the day breaks