Ya poluchil etu rol' (translation)

Doubts gnaw at us. I am not pleased with these doubts.
This foul heaviness in the chest shatters love.
And while we sit here and suffer, howling beside the locked gates,
It no longer matters what hits us, in the eye or above.

The most cunning ones have simply put it all down long ago,
Having fashioned a soft little world on the bones that their bodies are used to.
They only laugh at us, ones who are buried in silly passions,
They don't give a shit about anything, yours or mine.

I received this role. I got the lucky ticket.
I received this role. I got the lucky ticket.

So we ask our fathers, but righteous speeches bring no relief.
Can't put together a partial answer with these second-hand phrases.
Their difficult adolescence had passed far away from all things,
All these things that have filled us so completely.

And when we want so badly to scream, loud and long,
All our extensive relations are begging us to stay quiet.
And often, no longer trusting in shabby old gods,
Sons buy drink with the trophies of their dutiful fathers.

Amidst the hustle a perfectly lonely night arrives.
Thoughts of the third end are crawling, and all sleep is gone.
But tomorrow evening we bring in the one that doesn't mind,
And, slipping off the bed quietly, the war retreats.

I received this role. I got the lucky ticket.
I received this role. I got the lucky ticket.

Ephemerous happiness filled the show with honey.
We praise the fulfillment of great work, inexplicable in its purpose.
We praise the fulfillment of victories, and have banquets for whatever reason,
Only it's best not to think what will be when they're over tomorrow.

All immaterial dreams say goodbye, one after the other,
They fly away, having forever abandoned yet another one.
And he lies there and rots something yellow is seeping from his mouth -
It's only the spit he hasn't put to purpose yet.

The sweetness harbored the body, the soon the banquet was over,
And, unseeing, he has reached the line where everything tears apart in an instant.
In his frozen eyes, turned to the beginnings of roads,
Hardened and forsaken forever, the unborn scream remains.

I received this role. I got the lucky ticket.
I received this role. I got the lucky ticket.